


The Kidnapping of the Lost Prince

by TheGrammarHawk



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Bad Puns, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Eye Trauma, F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem: Awakening Spoilers, Forced Marriage, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Multiracial Character, Near Death Experiences, Neglect, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Politics, Polyamory, Post-Awakening, Post-Canon, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Revelations Spoilers, Social Anxiety, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Torture, Worldbuilding, Wow these tags are a mess, almost, also olivia has dark skin!!, author doesn't understand politics, awakening second gen will be explained inside, dancers possess biological magic, fight me on that okay, for which i'm so sorry, gaius' nicknames, i'm here to hurt your soul, it's very brief and not followed through, not really but it's a main theme once the plot Thickens, only briefly mentioned, plegians have dark skin!!! all of them!!!, robin thinking about how technically they're the reason all the kids are miserable? love that pain, the awakening kids are all severely poly, what kind of monster is this, which means kiddos can have mixed skin tones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-27 13:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 49,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13881693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrammarHawk/pseuds/TheGrammarHawk
Summary: When Odin is kidnapped from Nohr, Selena and Laslow must shed their disguises in order to save him. When the Nohrian royals and Niles chase after them, the two have no choice but to accept their help. As it turns out, a much more sinister plot is at hand.Cross-Posted on FF.Net (same author name, same title)





	1. Gone with the Risen

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO TO CLEAR UP:  
> -The awakening second gen disappeared following the end of awakening's plot, only to be 'reborn' in a way. As the new children get older, they recover memories of the past lives they led. This will be shown in a later chapter.  
> -Time does not flow equally in Awakening and Fates. It is mentioned in the story, later on. Basically, the trio has spent a decade in Nohr, but they have only aged a couple of months, because that is the amount of time that has gone by in Ylisse.  
> -The Robin in this story is a custom one, her name is Tawney!

_Chaos. Blood splattered the ground as people rushed into the fray to stop the shambling creatures heading towards their kingdom. Cries of horror were shouted about as the enemy was viewed up close…_

  
The Silent King had fallen, and an extremely tentative peace was held between the kingdoms of Nohr and Hoshido, alongside their new ally, Valla. Corrin’s army had recuperated in the Hidden Kingdom, but they had left and separated three days prior. Nohr was on the edge of shambles, what with the disappearances of not only their king but the entire royal family and its advisors, and Xander had made as many amends as he could in the short three days. Not to mention, there was a coronation to plan, as well as meetings with the Hoshidans, and attending their coronation as well – a very busy time in Nohr, indeed.

  
As such, the news of a small company making its way through remote villages of Nohr and decimating everything in its way was no small thing to the shaken kingdom.

  
The Nohrian royals were surprised that any group would so quickly rise against them. Upon reaching the fight, their opinions changed.

  
These were no ordinary soldiers.

  
Elise shrieked as a gnarled hand swiped at her, Effie quickly going to off the offender. Her lance sunk into the snarling thing’s back, but it did not flinch. It wasn’t until Arthur’s axe removed its bag-like head from its body that it no longer stirred.

  
“W-What are these… things?” Elise whimpered, waving her staff to assess the minor damage that had befallen her retainers.

  
The others among the royal company wondered the same. The Vallite soldiers – they were invisible puppets of the dead, but they looked almost completely human. Faceless, on the other hand, were clearly monsters.

  
These gnarled figures were as if corpses had decided to walk the land once more.

  
It did not matter to the Nohrians. They were a threat to the land, so they needed to be eradicated as swiftly as possible. They could wonder what they were after the battle.

  
To the three outsiders, however…

  
“Peri!” Laslow shouted, breath leaving him as he swung his sword through another target. The cavalier in question was struggling to remove her lance from the body it had impaled.

  
“Whaat?” Peri whined, fury written on her face, “can’t you see I’m busy? These mean thingies won’t give me back my stabber!”

  
“That’s just it,” Laslow comforted, quickly removing the lance for his friend, “these – these ‘mean thingies’ won’t be stopped by your stabbing. Look–”

  
He swiftly decapitated the creature with his sword before it could attack again. “You’ve got to get their heads off – they aren’t alive, they’re like the Vallites but more – more zombie-like.”

  
“Okay!” Peri chirped, whipping her horse to get closer to Xander. “I think I got it!”

  
“My, you fight like you’ve seen these before,” Camilla crooned on the other side of the battlefield, Selena moving sharply to eliminate targets around her liege. Brow furrowed, Selena bit her lip.

  
Of _course_ she had fought these before. In Naga’s name, she’d fought them countless of times! Enough so that seeing them _here_ , in Nohr, a place that was _supposed_ to be so separate from her old world–

It was enough to bring her mental strength to its knees.

  
“I–I have,” Selena murmured, unsure of whether she should continue. “Where – the place I’m from – they were, uh, in legends and stuff. They’re called Risen – they’re kinda like the Vallites,” she explained, chopping the arm off a nearby archer. Faintly hearing Camilla’s approval at her strike, she went for the killing blow.

  
No later did she swipe her sword through the one Risen, another was at her back. Spooked, she startled, quickly swiping at the undead.

  
But this one was bigger. Its lank, stringy hair fell over its glowing eye-sockets, foul breath leaking through its open jaws as it shoved back against Selena. Shaken but undeterred, she struck again, her movements too fast for the Risen to get the upper hand. Finally, after a decent struggle, she plunged her sword through its neck.

  
“ _Take… the lost priiiiinceee…”_

  
Every ounce of blood in the mercenary’s body went cold. Selena found she almost did not have the strength to stand from her position. Suddenly, every nerve in her body became enflamed and panic doused her senses.

  
She was a retainer. She had to protect her liege. Her liege was more important than – than her _false_ liege.

  
Her throat constricted with fear, restraining herself from shouting her friend’s name – her _best_ friend, her _lover_ , her _liege_ – and she sprinted back to where Camilla’s wyvern circled.

  
“Lady Camilla!” she shouted, throat burning as adrenaline woke her from her fear, “Lady Camilla – one of the Risen – their goal – they want one of the princes!” At the last word, Camilla’s attention was solely on her, purple eyes wide with a dark intensity. “I _heard_ it say that it wanted a prince, so _please_ –” _Please_ , she begged to herself, almost scared at the emotion in her voice, “allow me to help shelter Lord Leo!”

  
Camilla’s eyes narrowed, her usually pleasant face showing only animosity at the thought of the living corpses harming one of her brothers. “Of course, dear. I’ll send Beruka to Xander – if I’m not a target, I will _not_ allow one of them to be harmed.”

  
Relief momentarily flooding her veins, Selena immediately started cutting her way through the Risen to reach the second prince of Nohr. He and his retainers were near an edge of the fight – they were all long range, so it was clear Leo felt less danger in such a position. Nearby fought Effie and Arthur, carefully shielding Elise as she attempted to tend to the wounds of all near her. Leo was the furthest away of all the royal siblings, Selena noticed, and she was aghast to see that Niles and Odin were becoming overwhelmed.

  
The hostile air around her suddenly changed, a familiar presence pressed up against her back as she paired up defensively with her fellow mercenary. “What did you say?” came the quiet question, hair tickling Selena’s neck as he moved to cut down a near foe. From his tone, she knew he had heard her conversation perfectly clear.

  
“They want _him_ , Laslow. Not Lord Xander. Not Lord Leo. The Risen are going after _him_.”

  
“I can’t leave milord Xander!” Laslow spoke, cringing at his own words before he could help himself, Selena bursting from behind him to defend him from an oncoming Risen. Laslow’s eyes lowered softly, his voice suddenly overcome by a deep bitterness.

  
“If they’re after a ‘prince’, so you say, then it would be treasonous to depart from milord’s side.”

  
The resignation to his tone tore through Selena. She understood, of course – they had been in these roles for nearing a decade, despite how little they had truly aged – but there was something deeply ingrained to her in this situation.

  
She _had_ to get to Odin.

  
“Hurry,” Laslow whispered, pushing her off towards the true target of the Risen. His eyes flicked past her nervously, his voice faint. “I can hardly see him and Niles. They’re being swarmed.”

  
At that Selena pushed away, destroying any Risen in her path.

  
It was no easy feat, getting across the battlefield. Had she been unfamiliar with the zombies, she would never have made it. But she was. She was _terribly_ familiar with them. And seeing them now, she was filled with a sick vengeance that always remained no matter how far away her past had been.

  
They could do this, couldn’t they? They’d always managed before. This wasn’t that hard of a challenge, after all! Maybe they were a little out of practice for these _particular_ enemies, but…

  
Selena felt her body relax, easily slaying another foe. Only a few more enemies stood between her and Leo’s retainers. They could do this. So long as she scowled her fiercest, so long as Laslow kept smiling, so long as Odin was the mighty hero he painted himself to be in his stories–!

  
She hadn’t heard him yell some insane remark for some time now.

  
She couldn’t let herself be shaken by this acknowledgement, maybe he was taking the battle seriously for once but that didn’t mean that it was truly so grim–!

  
Selena froze, knocked to the ground in her distraction. Her sword was held up to defend herself from her attacker by mere instinct. Manic laughter echoed in her ears, anxious and, frankly, terrifying.

  
_No._

  
Her brain frantically searched for some possible, logical answer as she threw the Risen off of her, panting on the ground. Who – Who would laugh like that at a time like this? Was… was it Peri? No, no it wasn’t Peri, the laugh was too deep, too… afraid. And it certainly wasn’t one of the nobles. Arthur? No, not quite deep _enough_ , nor as staged.

  
_No no no no no no no!_

  
It _had_ to be Laslow.

  
Laslow only laughed like _that_ when he was being overwhelmed by the enemy. He always said he did it to unnerve the opposition, and for the most part, Selena begrudgingly admitted that it worked. It was lucky really, Selena knew that it was just a laugh brought about by anxiety – a trait she found had also belonged to his mother – and it happened to help him regain the upper hand. Of course…

  
No amount of smiling or laughter was going to throw off Risen.

  
Instinct surged through her and she briefly turned, slaying an approaching Entombed as she did. There was Xander, shouting as Siegfried decapitated approaching enemies. Peri had one of her more serious, stern faces on, a fact that chilled Selena to the bone. There was shouting, but she couldn’t see Laslow.

  
_“Shit!”_

  
The sound of the younger Nohrian prince swearing turned her attention back to her goal. There was no sight of the second prince’s retainers, she realized, which must have prompted the expletive. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she pushed through the last remaining group near her.

  
She was greeted with Niles, curled upon the ground, a deep gash in his back.

  
No Odin.

  
A loud scream of frustration tore through her lungs as she plunged her sword into a remaining carcass. She had _failed_. She had been too far from her liege when he had needed her, when their age-old enemy had finally reappeared, and she had failed to protect him.

  
A crushing desolation overwhelmed her. What would her father think if he knew?

  
If he had lost one of his lieges, she knew what he’d do. He would stop at _nothing_ short of death to protect the remaining royals.

  
_Laslow._

  
He wasn’t hers, but she had more or less taken him in ten years ago, when they made this damned deal with the Silent Dragon.

  
She had already lost Odin. She wouldn’t lose him too.

  
New vigor powered her; Selena sprinted back across the field dampened with blood. Nothing else filled her mind but the _need_ to get to her friend. When that wasn’t enough to fuel her, the possibility of being _alone_ in this still-foreign land propelled her even more. She only paid attention to two parts of her surroundings: remaining enemies, and any sound Laslow could have made. She didn’t hear his laughter anymore, only cold silence.

  
Of course, the world around her was far from quiet. Triumphant cheers as some of the remaining Risen were slaughtered came from the younger fighters while Xander surveyed the damages of the fight. Peri was continuing to clear the field, that was fine. Leo and Elise remained atop their horses, also good.

  
He looked up to find Camilla’s wyvern land closely beside his steed. His sister’s face was full of relief, and her comment of “Thank goodness you’re safe,” was nothing but warm.

  
But Xander was no fool. He knew the look in her eyes.

  
She was furious.

  
Selena paid no heed to anything the royals did in those painfully long moments. She didn’t care when Elise’s attention was disrupted from cheering on her retainers to suddenly spurring her horse across the field, face pale in fear. Suddenly, all she knew was the sight of red before her, sharp against the ruddy background, and her fingers desperately clasping a cold hand, prying it off of a spear.

  
The spear in question was embedded in Laslow’s stomach.

  
“Oh gods, oh gods, what do I do?” she whispered, trembling as she squeezed his hand tightly. His eyes flicked to her, and he had the audacity to smile, even as blood trickled from his lips.

  
“C-Calm down,” he whispered, attempt at placating her failing when the words caused his body to contort with coughing. “I-I’ve been through… worse. A little… s-staff, and I’ll… b-be…”

  
Her intense shushing silenced him finally. Panic encased her as she watched his eyes become more unfocused – her scolds to “keep breathing, dumbass!” seemed not to be strong enough to keep his full attention.

  
A sharp cry snapped her out of her daze.

  
“S-Selena, I said to pull the spear out! Pull it _out_!”

  
Narrow red eyes met the tear-brimmed purple that had appeared at her side. Without a second thought, Selena heeded the youngest princess’ words. Keeping Laslow’s hand tight in her own, she removed her right and grasped the spear. She lifted it rapidly, discarding it behind her and wincing at the gasp of air that came from her dear friend.

  
Friend, _ha,_ everyone here knew that Laslow and Odin were much more than just _friends_ of hers. After all these years, friendship had passed long behind…

  
Bright green light surged around her suddenly, Elise waving her staff over the deep wound. Selena didn’t know how much Elise would be able to heal just now – she had only brought a single Mend with her, and it seemed this wound would be far more serious–

  
“Elise,” a stern, calm voice came from above. Leo, with worried eyes, had his hand on his younger sister’s shoulder. “Xander says – you need to stop. Come with me and tend to Niles.”

  
Selena couldn’t muster the voice to protest as the dark mage pulled her away. Elise, however, had plenty protest in her.

  
“Big brother said – _what_? L-Leo, he could be _dying_!”

  
The excuse given by the mage was weakened by the look in his eyes: a confusion and uncertainty, for once, as he led Elise to Niles, who was being supported gingerly by Effie.

  
Elise could not escape her brother’s grasp. Instead, she fished in her dress and turned to look at Selena just briefly.

  
Selena barely caught the item suddenly thrown to her. Ignoring Leo’s protesting “ _Elise_! What did I just _say_?” she hurriedly opened the small brown jar.

  
A concoction. It’d have to do.

  
Her focus turned back to Laslow, whose breathing had already picked up from Elise’s brief healing. Maybe the staff had healed ruptured organs, but he was still bleeding out.

  
She slathered the concoction onto her bloodied hands before pressing into the wound. She continued administering the medicine, trying desperately to ignore the pained whispers her companion would give, focusing only on the concoction and his soft words of reassurance.

  
She ran out of concoction sooner than she’d hoped. He still needed a _healer_ –

  
“Selena, are you aware of the situation you’ve gotten yourself in?”

  
The red-head froze at the soft voice of her fellow retainer Beruka. For once, emotion was plain on the other’s face.

  
There was an inkling of fear.

  
“That’s all we truly _know_ , Xander,” Camilla warned the crown prince cautiously. “She knew the enemies. Leo’s retainer is missing. She said that the enemies wanted a prince – she knew what they _wanted_ , Xander, that’s entirely suspicious. I know it’s unlikely, they’ve been with us for years, but–”

  
The stern look on Xander’s face silenced her. “We can’t immediately jump to a conspiracy against the royal family, sister.”

  
“When it comes to our family I will not overlook any threat, no matter how slight,” she hissed in return, arms crossed. “If nothing else she has already committed treason here. She said she was going off to protect Leo. Normally I would not displace my own retainer, but given her sincerity I believed her and let her go. Instead she runs off to them just to run back the second that Odin is gone? Deserting a royal – especially then, when Leo had lost one retainer and the other grievously injured? She put him in danger and disobeyed orders to protect. The _only_ reason excusable for her to leave Leo would’ve been if I had been in danger.”

  
Xander heaved a sigh, spurring his horse to turn around. “Let us return to Castle Krakenburg!” he called, already riding off. The other royals quickly followed suit at his command.

  
Panic stirred in Selena again. Were they deserting them? Leaving Laslow to die?

  
She looked about for their mares, easing slightly when she saw no one leading the gray and brown horses away. The gray was already nosing towards them, big dark eyes focused on the ground. At least Laslow’s mare, Waiola, knew to take a hint.

  
There was no way that Laslow was going to be able to ride her, though.

  
“Halina!” Selena called, reaching her blood-soaked hand out to the brown mare. Halina was as stubborn as Waiola was gentle – _very_. Luckily, the mare’s ears flicked at her, and it appeared that, for once, she was going to listen.

  
“I – I can ride,” Laslow breathed, the effort showing in the blood bubbling at his lips. His hand not grasped tightly by Selena reached up weakly, earning a sniff from Waiola.

  
Selena scoffed in return. “As _if_! You can’t even sit up on your own, dumbass! You’re riding on Halina with _me_.”

  
Laslow’s eyes gazed slowly to the sturdy brown beast before them, hooves stamping the ground slightly in impatience as Selena patted her flank. “I… was unaware that Halina was willing to be ridden by anyone other than you. Reminds me of… a devil horse from long ago.”

  
Rolling her eyes, Selena gently raised Laslow to his unsteady feet, arm wrapped tightly around him. “Come on, she likes you!”

  
It was silent as she managed to get the both of them up onto the saddle, her hands gripping the reins. She had decided it best to have Laslow sit backwards, in her arms, as his forward leaning would only lead him to topple off the horse if she wasn’t careful. Her concern spiked with every short breath that came against her neck; he had not replied, and he seemed to give no intention to.

  
Selena nosed briefly in his gray hair before flicking her wrist. “Come on, girl, we’ve got some precious cargo to get home.”

  
Her soft voice set the horse off, Waiola dutifully trailing behind them.

  
If she could not feel her companion’s lips against her neck, she would have missed his next words.

  
“How do y-you… figure she likes me?”

  
Selena restrained herself from a short laugh; it appeared that he had just now regained awareness of his surroundings. “Oh shut up, she likes you plenty. I know because when Odin gets near her she tries to eat his hair,” she paused, frowning. Odin.

  
“We’ll find him, as always,” her fellow mercenary murmured, a soft kiss being pressed against her neck.

  
“We have to,” she returned, determination filling her.

  
They’d fought Grima twice, they’d ended Walhart the Conqueror, they’d slain the Silent Dragon Anankos.

  
They would find Odin.


	2. Conspiracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone! I'm happy that people are enjoying it so far! <3 <3 <3

“Ugh, finally… here we go.”

Selena helped Laslow to the bed in his modest quarters. Retainers and ordinary servants or other guard members lived very different lives, and, as such, had very different rooms. Retainers maintained the luxury of their own private space and a wardrobe and several trunks for equipment, armor, weapons, formal and casual clothing, as well as personal items. They even had a more reclusive bath that retainers all shared, regardless of gender. Servants slept two to four in a room, depending on their rank, and were lucky to have one trunk for all of their worldly possessions. The hell that was the massive bath for all servants was not even spoken of outside of the humid room.

Quickly, Selena made to shut the windows and draw closed the curtains, lighting a couple oil lamps near the door. “Can’t believe you leave these things open all day… it’s so drafty in this castle even without the windows open!”

She wished he would respond, but he had long since stopped talking back. The only way she still knew he was awake was by the gaze of his eyes trailing her wherever she moved. Her own lungs tightened as his breaths became shorter. _Why_ Leo had stopped his sister’s healing, she’d never understand…

“Stay awake for me, will you?” she added, grabbing the pitcher of water on his table, filling the glass beside it swiftly. “At least the water’s fresh, must’ve refreshed it right before we got back…”

Setting the glass down on the trunk next to his bed, she then rummaged through another chest and pulled out a cloth. Dipping it carefully in the pitcher, she let out a sigh.

“I’ve gotta clean this, okay? Never know what sorts of nasty shit the Risen have on them…” the fierce mercenary murmured, severity absent from her tone, for once.

Within moments, she had him near completely stripped of his bloody clothing, leaving only smallclothes behind.

She winced at the hiss he gave when the dampened rag pressed into the wound. “Shit, _sorry_ , I have no idea how much was healed by the concoction…”

“Not enough,” he muttered, leaning back into the pillow. Selena raised an eyebrow in surprise.

He was responding again, that was good, but… he sounded so… _bitter_.

Something hard within Selena melted at his voice. They were – they were completely alone. And… she was _tired_. After the day they had had, she couldn’t find the attitude to be so… belligerent.

Hell, if Laslow was allowed to be bitter, she could let her exhaustion show.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what those airhead royals are thinking, not letting Princess Elise heal you,” she soothed, setting the cloth aside and running her fingers through his hair.

“It was… _odd_ , to say t-the least,” he supplied, a sigh escaping his lips. “This is… all my fault.”

Selena nearly bristled at those words. “Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself, Laslow!”

She stared in pause as he coughed thickly, head ducking behind an elbow. “If I had just… swallowed my _d-damn_ pride and… gods, if I just went _with you_ …”

His eyes darkened greatly, something Selena hated to see. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she couldn’t help but quiet. “I should have just… been with you… we’d h-have made it through the enemies f-faster… and gotten him… those dastards have him n-now, and…”

“And we’ll get him back,” Selena returned, pressing her hand down over his own. Her eyes glanced down to the wound uneasily. “You’re still bleeding.”

Ignoring his slight tug at her hand, she sat back up. “Gods, we ride all this way back from the outskirts of Nohr, and you’re _still_ bleeding. Who even _knows_ how much the concoction helped, they’ve never quite worked like the ones back home – _shit_ , Laslow, I need to find you some bandages.”

“I’ll be… I’ll be alright…” The protest hit uninterested ears, however, and Selena was swiftly on her feet, making for the door. “Like hell you are! You’ve probably lost enough blood to make an infant!”

She threw the door open, but did not manage to take any steps out as a lance immediately blocked the doorway.

Rage bubbled through her. “Excuse me? What the hell do you think you’re – _Benny_?”

Grabbing the lance, she found its owner: indeed, the fearsome knight that had aided their campaign in Valla. Now, though, his face only looked fallen.

“What’s… going on?” came Laslow’s voice from behind. He was weakly sitting back up, concern nearly masking the pain etched on his face.

“None of your concern – put some damn clothes on!” On the other side of the door stood Charlotte, face contorting to her signature scowl within seconds.

Selena moved to block her friend’s image from the two blondes. “What are you two doing here? I heard you were both promoted to castle guards, but surely you’ve been given a better position than being outside a retainer’s room! The only people ever put on that kind of duty are new recruits with no experience and those being punished. And even then they don’t _block_ the damn exit.”

Benny shifted awkwardly, yet did not remove his offending weapon. “We aren’t here to guard a retainer’s room.”

“Yeah, what he said!” Charlotte agreed with a huff. “We were told that we were in charge of this room because we had to keep someone from escapin’.” She crossed her arms, gesturing to the empty hall. “We were just on break and Prince Xander comes up to us – I put on one of my better smiles even though it’s half-past-ass at night, and he comes up and all serious-like says that we’ve gotta keep whoever’s in this room from doing anything suspicious. Warned us that the woman we were to keep track of was quick with a sword and quicker with a tongue. Something about being a prisoner of the state and having committed treason and suspected conspiracy.”

“This is _Laslow’s_ room!” Selena retorted, “The only women that go in here are the unfortunate maids!”

Silence came in return. Slowly, with more hesitance than she had heard in a while, Benny softly spoke.

“Uh… You… you’re a woman.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess!” Selena had very little patience remaining. “But you said treason! Prisoner of the state – _conspiracy_?”

Charlotte shrugged with little sympathy. “Guess you fucked up real bad sometime today.”

A frustrated growl emerged from the redhead’s throat and she quickly slammed the door behind her, leaving little space between the door and weapon. Desperation tore through her.

She did not have time for this.

“Okay, shut up for a second and _listen_ ,” she whispered, eyes sharp at the once-border guards. “Cut the bullshit out! If you assholes aren’t going to let me leave then – fuck, guys, Laslow could die!”

There was no denying the stress marking her face and tone. She wasn’t kidding.

“Slow down, what happened?” Benny soothed, gaze flicking briefly to the closed door. “Should I find Princess Elise, or another healer?”

“I don’t know!” Nervous hands wrung through a long pigtail. “Prince Leo made her stop earlier. I – I gave him a concoction, but… dammit, I don’t tend to wounds that much and while I tried to clean it with water I don’t know if that’ll work, it’s been _hours_ of riding since he got hurt. Bleeding all this way! Gods, I just need some bandages – you’d be _lucky_ to find a healer at this hour.”

“Is that why he’s–” the fighter hastily stopped her incredulous statement. “Well _shit_ why didn’t anyone – Benny!”

Charlotte snapped her fingers at the knight before pointing down the hall. “Go get whatever you can from the medic area, and _hurry_ you oaf!”

The large man took off at his companion’s tone. Said companion turned back to Selena with new energy, and spun her axe idly in her hands.

“We can’t let you leave, got it?” she hissed, blue eyes fierce but voice betraying something else. Was it… fondness? “If you were any other people in this stuffy palace you’d be kissing my ass goodbye. But you ain’t. I may be a kiss-up to every damn royal within these walls, but I’m not gonna just turn a blind eye to… to _friends._

“Look, I don’t know what kinda shit you got yourself into today to warrant having vets like _us_ makin’ sure you don’t ditch this castle, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re comrades in arms.” Charlotte surprised Selena then with a smile, something usually reserved only for men.

It was true, after all. They’d been through a lot. Charlotte had at first attempted to weasel her way up through political branches by cozying up with Elise and her retainers, but upon seeing Leo and Xander, her schemes had gone through the roof. It wasn’t that easy of course, so first she went through the retainers. The amount of shameless flirting and dancing around Laslow and Odin had infuriated – and amused – Selena. After countless fights and near-death experiences, however…

Charlotte was an ally, one Selena, begrudgingly at times, trusted with her life.

Several minutes of anxious foot tapping finally gave way to Benny lumbering back through the halls, shoving bandages into Selena’s hands. “This is what I could get before I was caught. A couple days’ worth of bandages and… I think that salve is used for disinfectant?”

She couldn’t complain. _Something_ was wrong in the affairs of Castle Krakenberg, and she’d be damned if she couldn’t take what she could get.

She swallowed her fierce pride and dipped her head. “…Thanks. Both of you. I-I don’t know how deep this is, if left until morning… gods, this just isn’t my area.”

She returned to the dim lighting of his room, shutting the door softly, and set to work. She didn’t know if the disinfectant or whatever it was Benny had given her was going to do anything useful, but she had to try at this point.

Bandages, bandages she could do. She had had plenty of practice dressing people in those, she thought to herself bitterly. It was nice, yeah, to have Princess Elise running around even when they weren’t with all of the other healers of Corrin’s company. Having not only Princess Elise, but Princess Sakura, Shura, Azama, Jakob, Felicia, Flora, and the numerous members trying to train in staffs… it was a luxury that frankly, she wasn’t used to. Normally she was grateful for just a single, albeit foul-tempered and bit of a crybaby, healer.

Any noise of discomfort was silenced by a kiss. It seemed like hours had passed by the time she had finished with the bandages and cleaned the blood from the area, but it still remained dark outside. She sighed then, falling back on the bed, not bothering to hassle her friendly guards to find her some nightclothes: one of Laslow’s shirts would do.

At the touch of Laslow’s nuzzling into her neck, the spitfire nearly crumbled. She pulled the dancing mercenary to her, gently, letting his head rest on her chest.

He’d be okay. She couldn’t lose two in one day.


	3. Ghastly Gossip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh thank you for the continued support! Some notes: Camilla might seem somewhat OOC in this story, especially the beginning. She may seem unnecessarily harsh, but she truly doesn't mean to be, she's just very overprotective of her siblings (as we all well know). The idea that someone she trusts so much could possibly hurt her family infuriates her  
> Also, I'm a big sap, and I have no knowledge of politics, so please overlook any gross fluff that might sneak in and any weird political things that may happen.  
> WARNING: Laslow briefly mentions something somewhat suicidal, it's one line only and very vague.

The next few days were filled with more tension and confusion than Selena could ever remember witnessing. Peri had come and forced Selena from Laslow’s room come morning, something she nearly strangled the cavalier for. Though unsuccessful on that front, she had managed to give a solid punch to her face before Benny pulled her back.

That appeared to have been one of the worst things she could’ve done, under the current circumstances.

She was on lockdown, holed up in her own chambers. While Peri and Effie were completely against her, ignoring her existence in any situation they might have seen her, Beruka, Charlotte, and Benny were more than keen to talk to her. Charlotte and Benny were now posted outside of her room, and would constantly let her know what they had seen in the halls during the day. Beruka, on the other hand, would swoop into her room in the darkest hours of the night, and tell Selena the more… grave situation she was in.

All three of them proved to be great assets and troves of information for her.

“It appears that you are under investigation for committing treason. Lady Camilla was the one that brought this to Lord Xander’s attention.”

“You left Prince Leo’s side in battle, Selena! She sent you to him and us to Prince Xander! By turning back, you have broken one of the laws of retainers.”

“The maids are gossiping, you know. Sounds like it’s Lord Xander against Lady Camilla, a nasty spat if it gets worse. She’s pressing that you, Laslow, and Odin are trying to take a hit on the royal family. Load of shit if you ask me. Lord Xander seems to want nothing but this to be over. You should see his eyes when he argues with her.”

“Lord Xander wants to let you go but he can’t. You _have_ broken a rule. All this talk is… deciding whether you will be punished for treason alone, or for Lady Camilla’s conspiracy theory.”

“Don’t worry about Laslow. The maids and butlers refuse to go near him, but I’ve… coerced Niles into attempting his work with staves. Prince Xander is also gentle on him.”

“Peri’s been damn furious lately! I heard from Arthur that she and Laslow got into a fight. Not a physical one, mind you, but a good verbal ass kickin’ nonetheless. He wants to find you and Peri won’t let him. Ha! Man can barely find the strength to stand for even a second, and all he thinks of is _you_.”

“Niles dropped by today. I was going to let him in, but he didn’t seem to want to. He… won’t admit it, but he’s worried over Odin’s disappearance. He knows Odin wouldn’t be part of a plot against the crown. He’s been keeping up with Laslow, too, thanks to Beruka. He… he has an infection. It’s not dangerous, but, uh…”

Selena loathed the reports she had gotten. Five days of nothing but her own room, nothing but her fellow retainer and guards to keep her company. She couldn’t remember the last time she was without… _them_ for so long.

She was surprised to hear Benny’s voice past the castle curfew. Charlotte was more of one for night duty, after all.

“You… have guests. Can they come in?”

Cold fear gnawed in the pits of her stomach. She hadn’t had anyone but Beruka visit her, and normally Beruka had a flair for coming in through her window.

“F-Fine. They can come in. Unless they’re here to execute me on the spot, or something!”

The soft, nearly mumbled response from the other side of the door froze her blood entirely.

_“Execute… perish the thought.”_

The door opened, and before her stood two men, one of which she was desperate to see.

Niles stood there, an arm around Laslow and a dark look on his face as he helped keep the flirt steady on his feet. Selena embraced her love swiftly, too eagerly, and within moments they had both toppled to the floor. Niles couldn’t help but chuckle.

Selena frowned briefly at the heat from where Laslow pressed his face into her neck. “You’re so… _hot_.”

She knew she shouldn’t have used those words specifically, especially at his murmured “I could be saying the same to you.”

Niles acknowledged the worry on Selena’s face with a dramatic sigh. “Yes, it appears my sprouting knowledge of healing magic just isn’t enough for him. I presented my staff to him as he was helpless in bed numerous times, and yet…” he swallowed thickly at the intense glare from the redhead, “when one does not eat nor sleep, it can be difficult to stop infection from taking root. If it even is an infection. It could be an ordinary illness preying upon his weakness and I wouldn’t have the foggiest. My expertise lies… _elsewhere_ , as I’m sure you know. Unless you’d like a taste of that as well–?”

A barking “Leave us alone!” drove the outlaw away much more quickly than Selena had hoped. She refocused her attention on the man shivering in her arms.

She held him close to her, sitting up against the foot of her bed.

“I’m fine,” were the first words out of his mouth, which earned him a sharp glare that he couldn’t see. A wasted effort, truly.

“Fine?” Selena scolded, smoothing his hair, “Laslow, you have to eat. I can’t blame you for not sleeping… I know it’s hard, I haven’t been either.”

“I’ve tried,” came the slow response, a deep sigh released into the room. “I’ve tried, but it just… makes me _sick_. How can I lie around and eat and drink and be merry if I know he’s in danger? _Don’t_ tell me he’s not. We both know better.”

A groan. “Even so, you’re not _helping_ by doing this…”

They settled into silence, and by the steady rise and fall of his chest Selena nearly believed he had fallen asleep on her. Needless to say, she was startled when Laslow suddenly pulled back, biting a curse as he pressed an arm to his wound before meeting her eyes with his own.

His eyes were achingly tired, and she knew hers must have looked similar. Flinching in her vulnerability, she did not break eye contact as he cupped her face in his warm, rough hands.

“Lord Xander is ending your trial in two days. I’ve asked what I can of him and Peri. You will, at the very _least_ , be thrown out of the castle. More likely… you’ll be banished from Nohr. In worse case…” he grimaced, eyes filling with raw emotion, “he will execute you on the spot.

“If it comes to that… I will likely be killed as well. Either by his hand, or my own.”

“Shut up!” Selena whined desperately, unable to bear the way he was speaking. “We’ve got to do something, then! We’ve gotta – we need to find a way back! We could use our–”

“No, we can’t. We don’t know what those stones will do. We could be sent back to the very second we left. How would that help Odin? We need to get to him _now_ , in _this_ time.”

He was right, and _dammit_ she hated it when he was right. Laslow must have sensed her impending meltdown, for he took her hands in his own.

“I have a plan.”

Despite the glaze of fever across his face, she could feel his earnest sincerity. She gave a slow nod, waiting for him to continue.

His face turned dark. “A long while back, I heard of an outrealm mission that was slightly curious. Jakob and Felicia were speaking of how they and their liege had seen Vallite warriors go through a portal, and they had given chase with a few others. Silas, I believe, as well as Kaze and Mozu. They had joined forces with locals to keep the Vallites from interfering with their realm.”

He had slowed suddenly, rosy-brown eyes averting his gaze towards where their hands embraced. “They mentioned two men and a woman. One was clearly some sort of knight, and the other two were siblings.” He paused, giving Selena a careful look.

“The siblings were polite and courteous, they said. Jakob had not gotten along well with the knight. Said he was disturbingly wary over his companions. Selena…”

She couldn’t break her stare as he trailed off. Three figures were painted painfully in her mind. Slowly, the male mercenary gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath.

“Felicia said that they called themselves Shepherds.”

Selena tried to mask the sob escaping from her throat, yanking back her hands and scrubbing her eyes. “ _Gods_ , then… then they saw _Daddy_ …”

“Yes,” Laslow soothed. He didn’t dare actually speak their names. “And if there’s a portal that leads to our homeland, we can find it.”

Selena still wasn’t convinced, he could tell. “Lady Azura is going to be at the castle tomorrow. She knows all sorts of things about the different outrealms. I’ll ask her. That gives us a day to plan before we get you out preceding Lord Xander’s decision.”

There was still something that didn’t quite connect with perfection-seeking redhead. It only hit her when she saw Laslow shudder, coughing into his hands.

They were speckled in blood.

“How the…” words were hard to grasp at the moment, and Selena didn’t know whether to yell or scream, her emotions were too confused, “Laslow. How are you going to… Gods, how will you manage to get to…”

“I’m fine!” he quickly rasped, wiping his hands on his pants before beginning to cough again. Something spooked Selena: he couldn’t seem to breathe properly. Her momentary panic faded quickly, and with one hand on his shoulder she looked up to her door.

“Niles, get your ass back in here!” she called, and within seconds a soft green light was filling the dimly lit room. Only relaxing when she felt his breathing even, she let herself become lost in the healing glow.

Warm, gentle light… the same light she felt envelop her in softness at the shrine of Naga.

The shrine that sent them back to a world untainted.

A location that was both divine and yet simple, a landmark overgrown with nature that most today, she knew, would overlook. It had been their rendezvous point in the bad timeline, when all of her friends inevitably got lost or splintered in fights. She remembered holding the last pegasus knight in her arms after a terrible fight and praying to Naga for their lone healer to arrive quickly. Another moment when her fellow retainer was sprinting to the shrine, shouting that In– that Laslow had been downed by a Risen berserker. Or when the infamous sword-hand had stopped twitching for a few seconds too long.

There were better times, as well. In the good timeline, they all still managed to wind up there, feeling secure and safe nestled in the soft light of the holy place. Something about the soothing nature always sent the princess and princes to a sound sleep. They would all fall into a heap, exhausted, shortly after the noble three did. She still recalled what they would all say to each other when they went their separate ways, both a farewell and until next time, when they would rejoin with Naga’s shrine again.

The soft, fluttery “I’m sorry,” barely hit her ears before her eyes narrowed. A slow sigh that she knew he’d hear as reassurance left her lungs, and she returned her attention to Niles.

“Take him back to his quarters,” her arms folded tightly, concealing her vulnerability in the dim room. Her look shut down Laslow’s protest before it had even begun, and shortly, the men were nearly out of her room.

She paused at the last second. How to confirm with Laslow what they were going to do without letting Niles know something was afoot? The ghost of the long-silenced saying danced across her lips.

“Hey,” she stalled them, standing up without meeting any eyes. “Take that day you spoke of to talk to her. Maybe… you two will hit it off.” Laslow’s face carefully changed to one of both surprise and understanding, a small nod given in return. Selena fidgeted briefly, removing her hair ties as she feigned getting ready for sleep.

“It was nice to see you, in this place of joined hearts,” the start was slow and rough, it had been some time indeed, “until we see Her light again, we may only know each other in our troubled dreams.”

Laslow’s demeanor softened, becoming more serious. He spared her but one last look before Niles took him out of the room.

“Indeed,” he murmured, a phantom of a smile flashing to her, understanding and raw emotion frank in his eyes, “until Her light blesses the land…”

“We’ll travel apart together,” she finished, “hand in hand.” The faintest of gestures, and he was gone.

Selena fell to her bed, not even attempting to wipe the smile off her face at the familiar saying, and ignoring the tears stinging her eyes from memories.

Only the first sentence was constantly shared between the lost children she knew. Nonetheless, she knew Laslow would recall what came next, usually shouted to the rest after its only speaker disappeared into the trees. None of them had ever really acknowledged in out loud before now.

The last part had always been Odin’s addition. For now, they would speak for him.


	4. Fight for Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UM JUST WANNA SAY THAT YOUR COMMENTS MAKE ME CRY AND ILY ALL VERY MUCH, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!  
> Minor warnings: brief mentions of canonical character deaths, a near anxiety attack  
> Also there's a hint toward one-sided Xander/Laslow, Camilla/Selena, and Leo/Odin shh you didn't see anything

They never did meet back up at her room, their makeshift shrine.

Selena didn’t know why at first – and by gods, she was furious about it. Laslow had appeared to understand what she was getting at, so how could he slip up so badly as to not remember to rendezvous?

Her anger melted to worry. If he didn’t come by, then… surely he was too weak to! Had she been too secretive in front of Niles? Was he unable to return without his aide?

Millions of questions buzzed in her ears, but none of them mattered when Charlotte and Benny solemnly took her away from her secure chambers, closer and closer to the throne room itself.

Peri stood at attention on the left side of the throne, face turning near-murderous at Selena’s appearance. Xander, though not yet king, sat upon the throne, looking more than bored at the paper he held in his hand. Finally, to the right of the throne, busying over a mess of papers, sat Laslow, seemingly absorbed in his work. Selena knew better, however. She could glimpse the calculated look in his eyes.

Charlotte and Benny remained at the entrance to the room as Selena kept moving forward. She only stopped when she saw Peri grip her lance more tightly. Xander briefly looked down.

“Thank you for your promptness. Selena, are you aware in the circumstance you find yourself in today?”

A look of hardened steel. “Yes, sir. Apparently I have committed treason and am in some masterful plot to decimate the royal family.”

The crown prince softened. “Selena,” he called, voice even, “you have broken my sister’s heart with your actions.”

“I beat her to heartbreak the second Odin was taken from us,” she spat. Who was she to care of court policies and friendliness now? Anger pulsed, wild, through her veins. She would make her stance clear, now, despite the look of hesitance from Laslow.

Something shifted. The look on the blond’s face showed only remorse. “I… am deeply sorry for what happened that day. In your place,” he chose his words carefully, “I… likely would have done the same. To have one companion stolen, perhaps dead… I understand what drove you to seek out my retainer. It still could have cost my brother his life.”

His tone begged for understanding. He clearly didn’t want to have to punish her, they had fought in the same battles with each other for too long now, she was too familiar a presence. But there was no room in her heart for sympathy, not now. Not when it was already too late.

“To be completely honest, sir, it cost _my_ family,” she gestured to Laslow, ignoring her hissed name in response, “in more ways than one. There is only one thing of which I will agree to.”

Bile gnawed at her throat, a heavy sigh escaping. Never had she foreseen herself saying these words. Not in this timeline, not in this world.

“I have… truly failed as a retainer.”

In the corner of her eye, she could see that Laslow’s hands were shaking. Regardless, she knew she had spoken true.

A hand wafted through golden curls as Xander attempted to address the mercenary before him. Resignation laced his features, and he leaned back in the throne.

“Selena you are henceforth dismissed as a retainer of Nohr, and you must leave the city by nightfall.”

Silence hung in the air as thick as the smog that coated the skies of Windmire. Then came the scratch of fabric against stone, and Laslow was bowing to his liege.

“I am afraid then that I must resign from my place here. Selena goes nowhere that I do not follow.”

Nose pinched between fingers, the royal sighed. “You know that you may not leave unless you are no longer fit to serve or have purposefully acted against your liege. You may not be at your best, friend, but you will heal in time. We both know you have no real will to harm me.”

Cheeks painted in blush, Laslow shut down, but the conversation ran circles in Selena’s mind.

“I’ll fight you for him. Whoever wins our duel keeps his company.”

Looks of surprise came from every corner of the room. Slowly, Xander issued an odd grin.

“Do you have any conditions for this duel, Selena? I’m afraid that the customary win-at-first-blood cannot be the goal, you are not allowed to have any real weapons on you due to your current state.”

“Only that we both use swords, as to give neither the advantage. I don’t care if you’re on your horse.”

The four onlookers were made uneasy by the challenge, but this doubled when Xander began to laugh, standing. “You sound almost foolishly confident. Of course, I must admit, I have never sparred with you: that was always my sister’s delight. For all our years of fighting side-by-side in combat, never have I raised my blade to you.”

Within minutes, both had been given their wooden swords. Playing with the weapon, Xander raised an eyebrow to the mercenary. “Any more arrogant bets you wish to be making? You are already aware that I have been trained to fight amongst the elite my entire life, and have successfully ended the recent war. Do not let your emotions be your downfall.”

Stretching, she met his gaze evenly. “You know what? Sure, I’ll be more specific.

“If I win, Laslow is _honorably_ discharged as a retainer, unlike _me_. You let us leave with what we have been given in our time here, with what we own. Finally…”

The staring match ended as Selena glanced away, voice stern. “You… you may _not_ send any sort of party out to find us once we have left.”

“By my honor, and my love of Nohr, I agree to your terms.” Xander’s brow furrowed, and when he spoke next, his voice had a sharper edge.

“If I win, before you leave you will seek out Camilla and beg for forgiveness. You will admit that what you did was _wrong_.”

Grim looks on both contenders’ faces, it was clear the duel had begun. Laslow couldn’t bear this. He had fought against Xander in training numerous times, and while many times he sustained the upper hand, he had never cleanly bested the man. It wasn’t as though he had the flawless training Xander had as a child. No, from his mother he learnt to dance, from his father, how to strategize.

Selena, however… Well, Xander had been telling the truth.

He had never fought against someone with a style like _hers_.

A warrior’s cry signaled the first advance taken, by Selena of course. It certainly surprised the prince, for he barely dodged the incoming blow. In only a few short moments, it appeared that Selena was winning. Was… Xander throwing the fight?

No, Laslow decided, he most certainly was not. There was a look of awe in his eyes, and he was grimacing. He only ever did that when fighting a foreign force. Laslow had seen it in the first few spars he had had with his liege. Over time, though, it lessened, as Xander adapted to Laslow’s graceful, dance-like style.

Selena’s style wasn’t about fluidity and grace; it was about efficiency, hard but swift blows perfected from fighting for two lifetimes. First, she had learned the _need_ to fight. How to kill quickly, and minimize injury and energy expense. There was no beauty to those moves, only desire for a kill. Then, she had learned the _art_ to fight. In the good timeline, plagued only by dreams and desire to be a retainer, she had learned how to become creative, be more powerful, and could easily out spar most of her companions. Life had given her a knack for a sword.

Her father had given her proficiency.

He was on the forefront of her mind as she kept striking at Xander, no opportunity going to waste. Images kept blinding her from the duel:

Her father, surrounded by enemies, drowning in their swarm, fighting until his last breath.

A lazy bowstring being pulled far away, somewhere on the ground, sending an arrow to her mother’s neck, another to the eye of her steed.

The sound of laughter and scent of blood as she failed her job, even in this far off land of Nohr.

Taking up arms with her liege and girlfriend, being kissed briefly before plunging into another fight.

Laslow on the ground, bleeding out.

Storming off after a fight with her mother, only to turn right back around as a bowman threatened to shoot her down and slay him.

Odin disappearing under a horde of Risen.

Grabbing her best friend and sheltering her as the desert devout swarmed their army, holding her as she cried and shook with fear.

_Take… the lost priiiiiinceee…_

Selena screamed, voice trembling with fury, as she slammed her foe to the wall and dug her sword into its neck–

“It’s time for you to pick a god and _pray_!”

“ _Selena_!”

Everything faded suddenly at the familiar voice in her ears, familiar arms wrapped about her neck, a familiar scent, something similar to roses, reminding her of safety–

Laslow. Laslow was here. It was okay. Everything was okay.

Prince Xander was in front of her, sword arm pinned to the wall by her nondominant hand, blade on the floor, Selena’s mock weapon pressing against his jugular. Deep laughter surprised her, and her gaze shot up to meet his eyes, eyes full of admiration.

“You’ve won. No need to continue the fight. Were I an enemy, I’d truly be slain.”

Slowly, slowly, she removed the offending item. She could see Xander slip away, but the room felt like it was spinning. She focused not on the royal, but instead on the only thing grounding her: the shaking arms around her neck.

Her hands found his, and she turned to reciprocate the embrace. They were holding each other, arms tight but not uncomfortable, at least to Selena. It wasn’t enough.

Xander turned around at the sound of surprise coming from behind him, only an eyebrow raised as he observed. Selena’s hands had strayed upwards to Laslow’s face, cupping it softly as she kissed him. The other melted into the kiss, relaxing as his now freed hands brought the redhead closer, gentle at the small of her back.

Though the three foreigners had never spoken a word about their relationship, nor had ever acted so public, it was hardly a secret to the rest of the castle how they felt about each other.

(None of their lieges would care to admit it, but finding this out had put a bit of a damper on their own prospects. This was later set aside, seeing how devoted the three were to each other.)

Ignoring Peri’s protests, he turned back to his throne, away from them. He couldn’t help but wonder over Selena’s skill. Camilla had remarked, before, that in particularly dangerous battles Selena lost her smug attitude and became nothing short of a primitive beast, killing for survival. Xander had understood, in any random battle there was a chance that Laslow would… _change_. His calculating eyes would turn wild, his graceful strides would turn sharp with instinct and ruthlessness. Leo had rolled his eyes and offered that Odin became just a tad more dramatic on occasion.

Then, he had faltered, and with a look of slight doubt, and added that once he had found Odin strangling an enemy that had gotten just a _bit_ too close to taking off Selena’s head. No magic, no tomes. Just his hands and the look of a caged animal set free. Worse, he had almost punched Niles when the archer tried to see if he was okay.

“That was a spectacular experience,” he said softly, not bothering to face them, “you were rightly confident. I should learn to be less arrogant, instead of telling others not to be.”

He heard the footfalls begin to distance themselves from him, edging closer to the door. If he looked, he’d see the mercenaries hand-in-hand. While he did not look, he still had… one more question.

“Your style was incredibly unique, even more so than Laslow’s, I must say.”

The steps stopped.

“Tell me,” he turned now, seeing Selena’s dark yet blank face. “Who taught you to fight like that?”

“I taught myself.” The throne room’s door opened, Benny dipping his head as they stepped out. Before closing it, however, Selena met Xander’s eyes.

“I also learned from my parents. From my father. If you wanted to be good in a fight where I come from, you go to him. His training… is brutal, and only the best soldiers succeed. I have only ever known four people to beat him in a fight.”

She held up four fingers, pulling one down with each victor.

“Our king,

“Our princess,

“My mother…”

She pulled her pinky down as well, a smile appearing on her face. “And finally, just before I came here, _me_.”

Xander watched fondly as she led Laslow away. Her father seemed to be quite a character. It would’ve been a privilege to meet him. Selena was likely off to return home with Laslow, he couldn’t consider anywhere else the pair would go. Odin was lost to them all.

Of course, he had given his word that he would not send out a search party to locate the ex-retainers upon their exile. No, his word was good, he would certainly not send out soldiers to bring them back to the palace after they were gone.

However…

_Nothing had been said about following them as they left._


	5. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: In case I haven't said it before,,, I don't own any part of the FE franchise??  
> Y'all are wonderful btw!!  
> This chapter features a headcanon that our darling prince Leo is afraid of heights bc he's the only Nohrian sibling that can't heart seal to a wyvern rider of some sort, lol.

Selena eyed Laslow carefully, making sure he didn’t fall off Waiola. He had asserted his ability to ride on his own, and so far it seemed he had spoken true. Of course, Waiola was much steadier and gentler than her Halina, who likely would’ve thrown Selena off if she showed any weakness.

They had ridden out of Windmire, travelling with only a small bag slung over each of their backs for what felt like an hour. Laslow had related to her what Azura spoke of:

When asked about a portal, she readily knew the answer. A swirling blue vortex had appeared and with it, grotesque figures. It must be the portal the Risen had come from, meaning it was the same one Odin likely disappeared into. The portal’s location was daunting: halfway between a cliff’s peak and the ground, the only way into it would be dropping straight into it, at the mercy of gravity. It would close soon, and with every moment that passed it got smaller, and the chances of missing and meeting death on the ground, higher. It was approximately an hour to the north of the capital.

They were almost there.

No, strike that, they were upon it – Risen dotted the pale grass before them, more clustering the further up the hill they went. They did not focus on them as enemies, no – Laslow was too injured to sustain a proper fight, and they had a limited time for entrance. They simply charged forward, weaving through the crowd of Risen and narrowly dodging attacks until they reached the edge of the cliff.

Oddly enough, at the very edge of the cliff, the Risen were sparse. Those there did not even make a move to attack. It was almost as if they were… expecting them.

At this point, they didn’t care.

Meanwhile, off in the distance, a group of people on horseback were coming up to the cliff. Seven men and women rode their horses just far enough behind to make them seem less obvious to the two ex-retainers. Truth be told, this wasn’t needed, both Laslow and Selena were far too focused on what was ahead to take any glances behind.

In the air, two wyverns circled the cliff. A gasp of surprise from one rider alerted the other to what they saw:

A swirling portal.

That was their target.

“Xander!” Camilla hissed, swooping to his side, “There’s a vortex off the edge of the cliff. That must be what they came for.”

Xander nodded, slowing his horse and thus the party behind him to a halt. “Prepare to fight your way through these fiends. Camilla, Beruka, stay in the sky. If they miss the vortex – gods, it must be a portal to some other realm – I pray you will catch them before they hit the ground.”

“Why are we _doing_ this?” Camilla queried, pain overcoming her face. “Xander, this could go horribly wrong, someone could get _hurt_ –”

The crown prince cut off his sister with a soft smile and firm tone. “Because they are our _friends_ , sister. _They_ could get hurt.” With the agreement sounded by Leo and Elise, she was considerably out voted.

Selena slid off of Halina with ease, helping Laslow down as well. The sound of more hoofbeats froze her to the ground. “What the…”

“Holy shit,” Laslow breathed, turning to see what was left behind them. Their comrades raged absolute destruction on the Risen around them. Except for Elise. Elise was galloping toward them.

Hurriedly, Selena took both of their bags and started searching through them.

The dancer watched the princess get closer uneasily. “All good?”

“Yeah. All of our old stuff is here, and Odin’s. Except our weapons… they’d just disintegrate on impact, though.”

“Best remove any vulneraries or concoctions that remain. They won’t be of any use either.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Both of you, wait, please!”

Selena and Laslow had just picked up each of their sacks when Elise reached them. She looked like she was crying, shining streaks tracing the pathway of her tears.

“What are you going to do?” she begged, “Leo and I don’t understand what’s going on, _please_ don’t leave us like Odin–”

“He didn’t _choose_ to leave!” Selena snapped back, taking Laslow’s hand. “We’ve gotta go make sure he’s okay. We have to go home.”

Elise, scared, got off her horse as the two wandered closer to the edge. “No – _please_ , stop! You could miss the portal! You – you don’t know that this portal leads to your deeprealm!”

Laslow smiled slightly, turning to look over the edge. “We’re not from a deeprealm, Lady Elise. We’re not from any of the realms in this world. We’re from our own.”

Elise could barely let out a shocked “ _What_!” before the mercenaries jumped off the edge, still hand in hand. Waiola and Halina grazed dutifully as if their masters hadn’t practically committed suicide.

They pulled each other closer until they were practically one, arms holding the other close in a tight embrace as they plunged head first off of the cliff and into open air. Like this, they weren’t afraid of missing. Like this, they could only feel a certain peace.

A hot rush of energy surrounded them, and all turned to black.

“Big brother!” Elise shrieked, running to the edge. Xander immediately looked over, realizing what had taken place. He spurred Sieghorse closer, jumping off and running to her side just as Leo did as well.

“By the Dusk Dragon…” Leo whispered, hesitantly looking over. “The portal is getting smaller.” All the color paled from his face, and he stepped nervously back.

Xander put a hand on either’s shoulder, calculating the next move. One look into Elise’s eyes assured him he was making the right choice.

“Camilla!” he called, beckoning her, “Take Elise up with you! Follow my lead.”

The remaining siblings looked in shock as Xander jumped off the cliff. Elise screamed, only stopping when Camilla’s arms wrapped around her shoulders.

“Come on, dear,” came her soothing voice, “he made it. Let’s join him in pursuit.”

There were many words Leo could have used to describe how he felt in that moment, with Camilla, Elise securely behind her, guiding her wyvern high up in the sky. Aghast was one of them. Somewhat nauseous would also have been a good descriptor.

“Still afraid of heights then,” sighed a sultry voice just behind him. “Why am I not surprised. I can give you a push, if you’d like.” “Don’t you _dare_.”

Niles caught the eye of Camilla as she hovered over the portal. Leo never had time to register the evil grin that came over Niles’ face.

“So sorry, Milord,” Niles uttered softly, cracking his knuckles.

A moment later, and Leo had been forced off the cliff.

Ignoring the dignified shrieking Niles could hear, he watched as the massive wyvern snatched the younger prince in her talons before diving into the portal, wings tucked close. Very close, Niles noted, if they had gone any later the wyvern would not have fit.

The one-eyed archer glanced around him briefly. Everyone else was still busy absolutely destroying the weird foes that had only recently appeared. He grimaced, remembering the wound they had bestowed upon him.

They were clearly dangerous monsters, and it appeared they were from Odin’s world. Niles glanced the shrinking portal with slight interest.

Surely it would not be proper to let all four of the royals disappear without guidance in such a troublesome world? No, of course not.

Endless situations ran with a tease through his mind. No, he certainly had to follow.

Ah, but how funny the situation. Throughout his youth the idea of jumping off a cliff had always seemed particularly welcome. He had nearly gotten a rush when Corrin had ordered them to jump into the Bottomless Canyon. Jumping off one now was no problem. Just one step off the cliff…

Niles was barely aware of Beruka shouting from above. He almost had to laugh: the other retainers were just now noticing that all of their lieges were gone.

But it was too late, he knew, as he fell only a few meters above the portal, right on target.

As soon as the portal swallowed him, it shut completely.

They were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now officially caught up to FFnet! Unfortunately, that means no more posts every day. Boo. However, you can expect for a new chapter every Thursday! (Unless I die,,, then oh well, that's a shame.) There will continuously be a chapter every Thursday until I run out of ready chapters... Five are posted, and I've got twelve done so far!  
> I'm really happy that everyone seems to like this story so far. I hope you'll stick with me!


	6. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading your comments... guys, it makes me so happy, I nearly cry! Thank you so much.  
> This past week has been an absolute SHITSHOW. I know, however, that if anything can make me smile, it's your support.  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> Warnings: Blood, a bit of mental manipulation. (Reminder: Tawney=Robin)  
> Welcome to Ylisse.

_“We did it. We finally did it. We’re home.”_

_“Well met, Severa, but I must point out that you’re home – the beautiful Rosanne is still far across the sea.”_

_“Yeah, whatever, you know what I mean.”_

_“I still think it interesting that we appeared here. Is this not where Tawney was found twice over?”_

_“Of course we came here! Anankos took us from here, so we’re spit back out in the same place. Owain was right after all, Inigo. I’m glad he convinced us to leave some weapons here. Who knew any others brought over were going to disintegrate!”_

The familiar voices allowed the foreign Nohrian presences to stir. It appeared that, much like when they travelled to and from Valla, they had wound up unconscious upon impact. But this was not Valla…

The sky was the same familiar blue, and soft grass was all around, comfortable enough that a nap would’ve been welcome. A few stones and boulders dotted the field they seemed to be in, and a town could be seen in the distance. A deep wood was where the village was not.

The Nohrians cautiously sat up in turn, checking over themselves and each other for anomalies. It was with great displeasure that Camilla and Niles realized their weapons were gone; only Xander and Leo had retained Siegfried and Brynhildr. Elise nearly wailed when realizing her staff and concoctions had disappeared too, but Xander was sure to keep her quiet.

“Look, over there,” he pointed out softly, nodding to a bit of a ways off. Two people stood there, rummaging through a pile of items. The man moved stiffly, blue-gray hair and dark skin easily made out. The woman was doing most of the digging, her long brown hair cascading down her back as she handed a sword to her companion.

Xander stood quietly, wielding Siegfried in a manner he hoped would come across as hesitant, yet not overtly threatening. In turn, Camilla pulled Leo and Elise closer, Leo clutching his tome while Niles stared darkly ahead. The wyvern Circe stayed oddly still, head by Camilla’s lap.

“You two wanderers, halt!” Xander’s voice caused the two strangers to stiffen briefly before seemingly recovering, and the woman wearily shook her head. “I’m afraid I do not recognize this land, and most of the names you speak. I know not of Severa, Tawney, Owain, Inigo – but you say the cursed name Anankos. Tell me, what is this deeprealm?”

The brunette spun rapidly, a terribly familiar scowl upon her face as she crossed her arms. “ _Gawds_ , we’ve been here the whole time making sure no one came by and robbed you! How many times to I have to say it? This isn’t a _deeprealm_ , Lord Xander, this is our _home_! It’s an entirely different world. Can’t you tell?”

She was right. The atmosphere was… _different_ , to say the least. The air tasted foreign, and the trees did not look entirely the same.

“Selena darling, your _hair_ …” Camilla started, tilting her head. This only seemed to provoke the girl further.

“My name is _Severa._ Do you have a _problem_ with my hair, Lady Camilla?”

Inigo sighed, hefting his bag up before turning – his face, too, was unmistakable. Xander couldn’t help but smile at the two. “Sev, come on, there’s enough to do as is. If they’re here then they could easily come to some ghastly end, they don’t know this world like we do. We can explain as we walk to the capitol.”

His eyes slowly looked over the others. “You followed this far. Am I wrong to assume you’re going to follow easily?”

“Not at all, friend,” Xander remarked fondly, sheathing Siegfried entirely, “but I do believe proper introductions are in order. Tell us who you truly are.”

Seeing no harm in his stance, no judgment, the two natives walked closer, and they noticeably carried new weapons and wore different armor. Though some colors of their appearance had changed, the rest remained the same.

Inigo began to sweep out an arm in greeting when Severa nudged him back softly. The look on her face was unreadable to the Nohrians, yet it seemed to make Inigo chuckle. “Fine, fine, if you wish to continue your duties in such a way, I cannot stop you.”

“It’s been a long time, let me get back in practice!” Severa snapped, playfully almost, and rolled her shoulders back. She surprised the others with the slightest of bows.

“I am Severa of the kingdom Ylisse, the land in which you find yourselves now guests. First and only born of the head retainer Frederick the Wary, it is my duty to retain and protect this kingdom’s two princes and crown princess.”

Her hand moved in gesture to Inigo, who nearly rolled his eyes. “This is Lord Inigo, son of the Duke and Duchess of Rosanne, and the only heir to said duchy. Beloved of his people, he hails in blood from the exotic village of Caressa, a land of Ferox.”

“Would you like to explain our past mission as well?” Inigo teased, humor evident in his eyes as Severa finished. Leo perked up considerably at his words.

“Mission? Is that the reason you three became retainers for us?” he queried, “I had doubts before of your statuses, because only Sele–Severa, I suppose, seemed to devote herself fully to all standards of rules. You and Odin were… _unbearably_ informal, sometimes.”

As though Leo had not even spoken, Xander rested his chin on his hand. “Intriguing,” he began, “it explains why I had no ability to anticipate your style in the duel. I had assumed that being used to Laslow would give me an upper hand, but you aren’t even from the same countries…”

Glancing only then at his brother, his dark crimson eyes narrowing, he paused. “Yes, brother… you speak of Anankos. Why did you three come to Nohr, and leave your home?”

While they had been comfortable before, the two now fidgeted. Slowly, Severa brought herself to words.

“The three of us… we and our friends are practically bred for war. We’ve gone through… four now? Sort of. After everything had… uh, settled, we were still restless. Anankos – not that freaky dragon, like, his human half – Anankos came to us three here and asked us if we would help him.

“He warned us that his child was the only hope to destroying him. He knew… knew he was going crazy, and had spent all his energy gathering his remaining shreds of humanity to try and find some help… We fought Lilith, that was crazy, since she is Corrin’s half-sister but all evil dragon and no human… but she’s nice now as you know.

“Anankos chose us three to find his child, to protect them until they were able to stop him. He told us his wife had fled to Hoshido, so we were to go there and protect Corrin while undercover as noble retainers. As you can guess… it was about that time when Corrin was kidnapped. At the last second, Anankos changed his mind and sent us to Nohr.

“It was _awful_!” she exclaimed suddenly, hands thrown to the air, “We were promised a kingdom not unlike our own, and instead got sent to Nohr, and it was dark, and weird, and so _urban_ … and our weapons we took turned to dust, and our healing items went foul, everything was so _different_ and didn’t work right for us. Even your healing staves only helped half as much as the ones we used! Wait – _shit_ , Inigo, all the tiny healings given to you are going to completely _unravel_ here–!”

“Calm down, I’m sturdy, it’s only a day or so march to Ylisstol–”

“Like _hell_ I’ll calm down. I – I already fucked up and lost my own _prince_ , if I return you any less than whole Gerome’s going to have my _head_ –! Fuck, I’ve gotta start my will!”

Seeing that the frantic behavior between the two was not going to die down soon at all, Leo instead turned his attention to his own siblings. “Did she say _prince_? She can’t possibly mean…”

Apparently her panic was not enough to stop her from overhearing. Her demeanor flipped entirely from overbearing to ashamed, her arms wrapped in a tight hug around her body.

“Of _course_ I mean Prince Owain… he… he’s the son of our Exalt’s sister, he’s fourth in line to the throne… since Nohr has no official king right now, I’ll… relate by saying he’s got as much power over Ylisse as Lady Elise does for Nohr. So… yeah. He’s kind of… a big deal.”

She let out a sigh, eyes cold. “When I admitted that I had failed as a retainer, I was… talking about _him_. The Risen wanted the _lost prince_ and… since they’re from our world, I knew that they meant Owain, they meant the prince that our world had lost… I… I had to pretend to want to shelter Leo because… because he was _there_. I _had_ to protect Owain, and I… I _failed_. Then all I had left was Inigo, who I promised that I’d protect in Gerome’s absence, and I pretty much failed there _too_.”

A long look passed between Xander and Camilla. Slowly, the flier looked away with the slightest of nods. Xander took her affirmation to look back to Severa.

“Allow me to apologize for _our_ transgressions, then. We slighted you and held you to court policies not of your own land. Let there be no hard feelings between any of us,” his gaze softened, an amicable smile smoothing his face, “though I must admit I knew from the start that the conspiracy against the throne was utter horseshit.

“To abandon your own and come to fight in our cause is most noble. You have only our deepest thanks and admiration for it. In return… I suppose we will follow you in return, for the time being.”

His eyes wandered the horizon. “I assume we must be off as soon as able.”

Severa nodded. “It’s midday. If we keep pace, we should be able to reach Ylisstol tomorrow… maybe two days?” She looked momentarily burdened, as though thinking too hard, “Of course, that depends entirely on us not getting into any fights and…”

She deadpanned to Inigo. “And you’re bleeding again.”

He looked down, surprised, an embarrassed flush leaking across his face in the same way red had begun soaking slowly through his shirt. The area was still small, but its darkness was considerable.

“Shit, everything must have been just barely keeping you together back there!” Severa hissed, “Niles, did you even make _any_ progress?”

“I’m not proficient in staves like any healer would be,” Niles muttered, lips taut. “It’s not _my_ fault that only lowlife like me could have gotten close to either of you the past week. All the other servants may have been to spooked to get too close, but I absolutely _love_ being at bedside when people are at their most vulnerable. Babysitting dear _Lord Inigo_ had been nothing but pleasure, for me…” A dangerous grin, tongue flicking over his lips briefly, “Ohh, how wonderful it is to taste your _true name_ on my tongue. It tastes… especially delicious.”

Niles only stopped his wandering gaze when Severa drew her sword.

“Yes, can you explain something dear?” Camilla changed the subject, hands on hips. “How is it only my dear brothers’ retained their legendary weapons? What happened to everything else?”

“And all my medicines are gone!” Elise added quickly, still staring at Inigo with worry.

Severa spared a look to her companion before sighing heavily. “We learned that the hard way. I already said weapons turned to dust and medicines basically rotted, but… I suppose legendary weapons don’t completely crumble. Doesn’t matter. None of us three know shit about healing, but Inigo and I’ve dabbled in axes and bows each.”

From the miscellaneous pile she removed a basic axe and bow, giving them to Camilla and Niles respectively. With a huff, she turned to face the town, and then the woods.

“We don’t have any money to buy stuff in town, much less a hotel room. Looks like we’re doing it how Daddy would want: a proper campaign through the woods.”

She didn’t give anyone a warning before she started walking off, an air of familiarity and confidence exuding from her being. Inigo took off then too, easily catching up with her despite the reappearance of his injury.

It wasn’t long before they were knee-deep in the forest and painfully curious about the people leading them. No matter what questions were asked – especially from Leo and Elise, who were terribly intrigued – the one subject that the two would not speak of was their world’s history. Culture, they would explain. The different lands, they would explain. Little childhood stories – always hesitant in nature – they would explain, but in ways that were awfully vague. When being told that there was no formal class of outlaws or malig knights in their world, more questions were raised. The jokes thrown between the two mercenaries regarding the Nohrian heavy dark armor in comparison to the light clothing of Ylisse were mildly infuriating to be sure.

When they were told to stop and sit by a nearly giddy Severa – every breath she took in smelled like home, it was _perfect_ – they were more than willing. The forest wasn’t dense, they could see the dark sky through the canopy, and their legs ached from walking. At least, the Nohrian royals had this problem – Niles was more than used to walking like this, but the others longed for their mounts. Circe had been left outside the forest, Camilla claiming that the reptile would find her again, that the forest was a bit too hard for a wyvern to get through.

All the time walking had been spent with Severa giving them varying orders. They were not royals in this world, they did not bear a title here and they did not represent any of these countries, so they had to drop their status while in this world. The referenced Risen were apparently here, which meant something bad was happening, so everyone had to be careful. They didn’t know how much time had passed since they left, but figured it couldn’t have been extremely long – it was only then that it became apparent that they had not physically aged noticeably in Nohr, especially since they had been together for a decade.

And their personalities… were _fascinating_. They were still the same, still familiar, and yet…

Severa was _smiling_ and making _jokes_. Inigo looked _comfortable_ and _relaxed_. Every so often the scowl and awkwardness would reappear, but…

They were so happy.

While they had set up ‘camp’ Severa returned from hunting, a few squirrels held by the tail in her hand. Her eyes glistened at the sight of the fire, something that made Inigo smile in return, and she threw the rodents on the heap.

“No bear?” came the inevitable tease as Severa sat next to him, stretching. She scoffed. “Come off it! Even if I _wanted_ to catch a disgusting bear, it would’ve been stupidly difficult. I did spot some rabbits, but…”

“We just can’t eat them, can we?” Inigo prodded, a knowing look in his eyes as he rested his head to her shoulder. “Poor creatures quivering in fear, helpless. _Imagine_ what Yarne would think.”

A stretch of silence. “I miss them, Sev.”

“I miss them too.”

Oblivious to the conversation between old friends, the siblings and Niles huddled together. They all knew the look that had taken over Leo’s face, but loathe be it that they ask before he was ready.

They didn’t have to wait too long.

“Are you as curious about their lives as I?” he offered, careful to keep quiet, “They refuse to talk about the past.”

“What devious things do you have in mind?” Niles questioned, eyebrows raised.

Leo thumbed through the pages of Brynhildr. “Brynhildr has a mass of spells, not just for battle. There was one in particular Father had wanted me to master in order to use it on our enemies. It would allow me to observe the mind of someone through their sleep. Find their weaknesses. I didn’t figure it out in time to use it on Hoshidans, and it was useless against the Vallites, but if I wanted to, I could…” he paused momentarily to look at Xander, “Of course, I won’t do it without your permission, brother.”

Xander pondered briefly, watching the two across the fire sleep, Inigo’s head on Severa’s shoulder, her head on his own. It was much harder to sleep in a forest foreign to you.

“How many people can you take with you, or is it just yourself?”

Leo looked somewhat surprised at the question. “I… haven’t tried, but I believe it would allow me to take others. Is this your way of saying yes?” worried glances were tossed across the camp.

Xander nodded slowly, only mild uncertainty in his eyes. “I would not ask you to do it alone. Something about their behaviors… and what we know to be their wildness in battle… I fear what may be seen. Yet, if we are to be of any use to them, now that we are stuck in their land, we need to know their pasts. They almost got killed fighting our war. We owe them this much.”

Leo thumbed through the tome, an agreement fluttering past his lips. The four huddled closer to him, Elise fearfully glancing at their friends.

“Big brother, who… who are we going to look at?” Elise nudged a little closer. Leo looked up briefly before tracing his finger about a line in the book.

“While I know I can perform the spell, I am not entirely confident in myself. It would be significantly easier to go into a mind that’s less… defensive. More open, if you will. Now, we all know that they’ve been harboring secrets for years. Neither of their brains will be super open to visitors. So we’ve got to go with the one that’s less hostile to strangers, knowing that we could still be thrown back to reality at any moment.”

Purple eyes saddened slightly, voice reserved and hesitant. “We’re going to look at Inigo, aren’t we, big brother.”

A nod. This was obvious. Severa had always been more guarded, more conservative in her actions than Inigo or Owain had ever been. If Owain was here, that would’ve been the choice, Inigo was an excellent dodger of points at times. As it was, Inigo did not seem to have the barbed wire protecting his mind that Severa did.

Brynhildr began to emit a soft blue light. Warmth began to flood their senses as the world around them melted away. Everything now was dark, like an endless midnight, with only small lights like stars floating every so often around them.

“Leo dear, where are we?” Camilla’s voice almost echoed, awe laced through it. Her darling little brother was _so_ talented.

Leo looked around skeptically, taking a deep breath as the others began to fan out around him. “He’s not dreaming at the moment, but there are lots of orbs… which means that a dream is going to begin soon. The spell is working, then, it’s changing whatever he had begun to dream about into memories. It’s odd, though… everything feels so… _dark_.”

They had not been able to tell before, but at his confirmation it was clearly known: wherever the lights were not, everything felt heavy and oppressive.

“He’s spoken of having nightmares before,” Xander supplied, “though I admit I would not have guessed that the interior of his mind would be so somber. He’s always been much more colorful.”

At his words, two specks of light began to grow.

“Only one is supposed to do that…”

The two spheres continued to enlarge, gravitating towards each other. They suddenly collided, bouncing off each other and giving off bright sparks of light.

“They’re fighting?” Elise whispered, taking a stance behind Leo, holding onto his cloak.

“They aren’t supposed to – hell, there’s only supposed to be _one_. The first memory of importance to his person.” Confusion only grew as the lights did, “Unless… he has two sets of memories? That’s hardly even _possible_.”

The siblings and thief came closer as the balls kept fighting. More and more sparks filled the air until one light suddenly engulfed the other. Instead of remaining soft and golden in color, it slowly began to turn a dark, bloody red.

“Leo,” Xander’s stern voice pierced the now silent space as the orb continued to grow, “Leo, this doesn’t feel like a peaceful presence. I thought his mind wasn’t going to fight us.”

Most of the darkness had faded, being replaced with the disturbing crimson.

Leo was not afraid, though, which served as slight comfort for his companions. He only looked amazed as the light threatened to engulf them.

“It isn’t… fighting _us_ ,” he whispered, reaching out to touch it. The moment he did, the light scorched the area, shapes beginning to make themselves known as a single noise pierced the air:

They could hardly hear what Leo said next over the sound of a child screaming.

“It’s fighting _itself_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a purely self-indulgent chapter in which we will see the Nohrian five observe prominent points in Inigo's life. Will there be fluff? Yes. Will there be angst? Hell yes.  
> Until next week, my loves! Hopefully this week will be better...


	7. Satisfaction Brought it Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys,,, I love you so much. Your comments honestly make me so, so happy and inspired. And it makes it super hard to update only once a week! I update once a week so that I don't suddenly run out of content (sometimes I can't write at all for a while, sometimes I write three chapters in one week... RIP) but every time you say something I get spurred to write more! Chapter 13 is underway and it's,, a lot I'm so excited.  
> Anyways, you ready for some self-indulgent fluff and angst?? Yeah??? This chapter explores Inigo's past (obvi) in a way to clue in the Nohrian five as to whomst the fuck some of these people are as well as showing some worldbuilding/details. Since it's kinda from the Nohrians' POV, Awakening kiddos and characters are described more by their appearance at first. You can put things together by looking at the pairings, though!  
> Warnings: mental manipulation (I mean jeez Leo's basically fuckin up Inigo's brain a lot), blood, death, all sorts of fun things.  
> Also, whoever let me write Virion and Owain/Odin gave me TOO MUCH POWER.

Xander, Camilla, Leo, Elise, and Niles watched as the land warped and moved around them. A woman was running, her long hair trailing behind her, as she held a small child to her chest. The child was small, perhaps only five or six years old.

While their skin was similarly dark, the woman had pale pink hair while the boy had… a shade of blue-gray.

Camilla gasped. “Is that – is that Laslow?”

“And his mother, I’m assuming, yes,” Leo winced. This is not what they had been expecting.

Disturbing creatures were chasing them, surrounding them, the same ones that they recognized from the previous fight and surrounding the portal, the monsters Severa called Risen.

The woman let out a shriek at one swiped at them, turning to shield the child in her arms. At the last second, an arrow offed the offender, and a man jumped down from the trees near the onlookers.

He was pale, yes, but his hair was identical to their friend’s.

The man hurried forward, embracing the woman and child as if the world was ending. Was it? They could not make out his whispered words, but the woman’s yell was clear as day.

“ _Take him_ , Virion! You need to go!” Having deposited the fearful boy to him, she withdrew a wicked looking sword. The man, Virion, became near vehement.

“You must be mad! Darling dancer, I cannot _possibly_ run now! I cannot desert you, I _swore_ I never would–”

A pleading look overtook her face. “Rosanne needs you. _Inigo_ needs you. You’re long-distance, I am not. Please,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to first the man’s cheek, then the child’s head, “let me count on you to flee with our son. If you ever grow tired, let my dance inspire you.”

A look of heartbreak passed from Virion to the dancer. Little Inigo turned, tears dripping down his face as he reached a small hand out to her. “M-Mommy…”

Another Risen was upon them. The woman sunk her sword into the enemy, and Virion took a step back. Hesitance soared as he looked between the tree cover and his wife.

He ran. Inigo’s screams were like poison to their ears.

They continued to watch as the woman slayed the enemies, but she was outnumbered. Xander noted with only mild surprise that her fighting style… was just like Inigo’s. It was light, graceful, of course… this woman was clearly a dancer, that was where Inigo got it.

Another fiend made what would have been a lethal blow, but an arrow was sunk into its forehead. The onlookers turned to see that Virion had not truly left. In the cover of the trees, he had placed Inigo down, lifting up a bow. Inigo had picked up a branch, taking what appeared to be a defensive stance, but his act was not at all intimidating considering his heavily tear-stained cheeks.

It appeared Virion’s efforts to protect his wife were in vain. There were simply too many Risen. Panic let more and more arrows fly, each hitting targets, but more kept coming.

There was nothing to do but watch as the woman fell to the ground, pink eyes unseeing, as the Risen continued to tear into her corpse.

“ _Mommy_!”

A bloodcurdling shriek reached their ears as Virion scooped up the child and immediately ran. The tears in his eyes were nothing to the sobs of Inigo.

The scene changed.

The man they recognized as Virion kneeled in front of the child they knew to be Inigo. He looked a bit older now, no more than a year, but his eyes seemed to have aged ten-fold. They were in a small cabin, and Inigo was handing his father small coins.

“You’ve done marvelously,” Virion smiled, kissing his son’s forehead and getting a small grin in return. “Your dances are as perfect as your mother’s. No wonder the town gives you so much money for the pleasure of seeing you. You are _wonderful_ , Inigo.”

“Will Auntie Cherche find us soon?” The voice was painfully timid, the boy latching onto his father’s arm.

“Of course, my pet, of course! Soon we will return to the safe walls of the manor, and you and Gerome shall play together again, and nothing bad will _ever_ harm you…”

Inigo froze and followed his father’s gaze to the door. A shadow could barely be seen through a crack.

“Inigo, get under the bed.”

“P-Papa? Are… are the Risen gonna kill us?”

Virion placed a hand to Inigo’s hair. “No, little one, no.” A pause. “Get under the bed _now_.”

Virion practically threw the boy under the low bed as the door suddenly splintered. Risen were crawling in through the windows, swarming through the door. The room was dimly lit, but this did not inhibit the Nohrians from being able to watch the man their friend called father get murdered. His corpse fell to the side of the bed, blood oozing across the floor.

They had no way of telling how much time had passed once the Risen had left. Inigo stayed under the bed, sobs muffled in fear, the entire time.

Finally, once the outside was dark, a figure came in through the window. The still-lit oil lamps showed it to be a woman, her hair a dark pink that fell almost to the floor. She stopped at the sight of Virion’s body.

“Gods… I’m too late.” Her hands clasped together briefly, giving a silent prayer. “May Naga’s light welcome you, Lord Virion. May your son not have met the same fate…”

She had just finished when the sobs became louder. Inigo came out from under the bed, his father’s blood staining his side, and he latched onto the woman’s legs.

“Oh, darling,” she soothed, picking him up, “it’s okay, Aunt Cherche has you now, little duke. I am _so_ sorry that I failed to get here earlier. Minerva’s outside. Let’s go home.”

Nothing she said or did stopped his wails.

The scene changed.

They found themselves in a well-lit bedroom. Books were scattered everywhere, and a beautiful canopy bed caught their attention. Sitting on it was Inigo. Older now, he sat silently on the bed.

“I’ve… _never_ seen him so quiet or serious,” Xander grimaced, watching the child sit motionless. “His eyes almost look hollow.”

Attention was drawn to the door at the sound of voices. One voice was familiar, it was the woman dubbed ‘Aunt Cherche’, they could tell.

_“The Duke needs to come out of his room and inspire the people! What will Rosanne do without a leader!”_

_“He’s only a boy! You can’t expect a ten year old to take charge in such a moment! If Rosanne can’t function without any sort of guidance, then it was always doomed to fall!”_

_“How could you speak like that! We already had to endure this nonsense when the previous duke abandoned us all! Look where that got us! Conquered by Valm!”_

_“Duke Virion left to ensure all here would live, instead of die for him. You can no longer blame a dead man for our duchy’s failings. Lord Virion did all that he could, and Lady Olivia brought happiness to all. Instead of trying to berate their son, you should instead live in a legacy inspired by them. They were the old Rosanne. Lord Inigo is the new. So long as he is alive, we have hope. He need not command an army to live.”_

Suddenly Inigo groaned, falling back on the bed and scrubbing, irritated, at his face. “Lead our country… I can’t… Cherche says I represent hope for us but… Naga, I just… I’m a _kid_.”

His voice was painfully small in the ornate room. He looked dejectedly at the door, where arguing still continued. “Cherche said that all I had to do to make my people happy was to _smile_. If I smiled and acted cordial to everyone, they would forget that the Grimleal were just outside the land’s borders… That the Fell Dragon was soon to be upon us…”

“Oh, the poor _thing_ ,” Camilla murmured, covering her mouth with one hand. “Is this why he always seems so friendly and content? A front to keep everyone else sedated and happy?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Xander affirmed darkly, “if I ever caught him off guard he would go from grim to a grin plastered on his face swifter than a heartbeat. It was easy to tell that half of them were fake.”

The voices in the hall stopped ominously. Finally, Cherche’s voice came through, wavering slightly.

_“What in Naga’s name do you mean they’ve gotten in the manor–!”_

A horrible sound of a horde rushing through the hall reached their ears, and Inigo sat straight up. “No…” he whispered, clutching a bedpost, “I thought that we had more time…!”

The door suddenly opened and a small boy, about Inigo’s age, it seemed, but taller, was shoved in. Though his face was calm, his eyes were wide in terror. Cherche was visible in the doorway, bending in awkwardly as if to hide the hall from the children.

“Gerome, sweetie,” she whispered, running a hand through the short blond hair, “Minerva’s outside, okay? You’ve got to break the window and call for her.”

Inigo paled at the sight of blood dribbling through Cherche’s lips, a wheeze catching in her throat.

“Bring… bring Lord Inigo to your father… he’s at… the temples near the palace, in Ylisse. I…” she pressed a bloody kiss to the top of the boy’s head, rasping softly in his ear.

“Counting… o-on you… keep him… s-safe…R-Remem… I l-love…”

Gerome recoiled sharply as she fell with a thud to the floor, a massive axe embedded in her back.

Though they could hear Inigo shouting her name, it appeared the boy – her son? – had no thought other than to enact her wish. He grabbed a large book near his foot and turned sharply, looking at the windows.

Tinkling glass shot outside as the window shattered.

He ran to the window, leaning out of it. “Minerva! _Minerva_! Come _here_!” A sob broke his cry, and within moments Inigo was standing behind him, arms around him in a hug.

“Minerva come _here_! Mom is _dead_! She’s not going to call for you! I know she’s your favorite but _please_ , listen to me!”

Not a moment later the head of a massive wyvern appeared in the window. Gerome boosted Inigo to the ledge and instructed him to sit on her back before following. As they pulled away from the building, Risen burst through the bedroom door.

The scene changed.

It was dark out. Fires were burning as bright as the stars. Several people were sitting together, huddled in the ruins of what seemed to be a temple.

This time, Inigo wasn’t the only one they recognized. While he sat shoulder to shoulder with a blond man – if Inigo appeared to be a teenager now, maybe young adult, was that Gerome? Through the mask they couldn’t tell – Severa had her arms wrapped around a girl with brown skin, thin eyes, and similarly dark hair. She was trembling in Severa’s arms.

And then there was another young man that seemed familiar. A narrow face, wild hair… though it was now a dusty brown in color, there was no mistaking Owain. He was sitting between a young woman with blue locks and a man with auburn hair, his hands intertwined with one of each’s. The woman retracted hers then, pulling her hair up neatly.

“Gerome, if you will?”

The blond confirmed his identity as he pulled what seemed to be a small, dark mask out of his bag. He handed it over. Everyone else looked at the ground with steely expressions.

“My friends, thank you all for gathering. As you know, my brother has been detained. They say Grima’s presence has made him mad,” she paused, a frown crossing her face. Owain put his free hand on her shoulder.

“I have consulted with Naga and it has been decided. You all have stood by me through hell, and now I ask you to do so again. If you do not want to come, I understand. This is a dangerous cause. We may fail to save our world even so. Our presence, where we’re going, could be problematic. Hence…”

They watched as she put on the mask with a sigh. “If my brand is seen, chaos could happen. Frankly, chaos is certain. I only ask that if you choose not to follow me now, you watch after my brother. Morgan is innocent, he is no more Plegian than I. And… pay respects to our parents, when you are able. When there isn’t a constant fight.”

“Lucina, you know we’re going to follow you anywhere,” replied a blonde girl in armor.

“Good,” Lucina smiled, standing and drawing her blade. She pointed the sword to the sky – immediately the Nohrians were drawn to it. Though, the royals, perhaps, with some distaste.

“That sword poisons dragons,” Leo remarked, frowning. Though none of the royals in either family were as vulnerable to dragonsbane as Corrin, they could still sense its presence.

“When the moon is highest this night, She will call upon us. We go tonight.”

“I mean, I’ll follow you, but… where are we going?” the girl in Severa’s arms softly asked. Severa gave her a squeeze.

A deep breath from Lucina.

“We shall enter the past and rewrite our fates.”

The scene changed.

Inigo, the same adolescent age as before, was pacing about a tent. His face bore no smile, no, it was clear he was irate, he tugged at his hair as he continued his strides.

The Owain from before walked in. Those watching were ready for some friendly tease, banter, perhaps a well-met greeting – hell, even a kiss, knowing these two!

They were not expecting Owain to roll his eyes and flop down on his makeshift bedroll. Inigo groaned at the other’s presence, which only lit a fire in Owain’s eyes.

“What, has the fell dragon suddenly clawed up your throat and tied your troubling tongue again? Just because you trip and stumble your speeches in front of all our faux-parents means not that you have to give _me_ the same honor.”

That was _definitely_ Owain. But there was a mild hostility to his tone, though most was still light. Casual, but not friendly.

Inigo whirled, earring glinting in the lantern light. “W-Why do you find the need to mock me? You’re one to talk, with your utter garbage fantasies!”

“He _can_ speak!” Owain gasped, raising a hand to cover his face, “What sort of demon controls thy tongue? Have you imbibed one of saint Noire’s talismans? Or happen you to be not Inigo, the bumbler of everyday conversation?”

Inigo blushed up to his ears, jaw clenched. “What is it, Owain, have you finally succumbed to insanity? Or are you just tired of everyone teasing you like the freak you are!”

Owain went quiet, looking away. Elise’s lips puckered. “Why are they so _mean_ to each other?”

Owain only spoke again when Inigo sat with a huff on his own bedroll. “You know, it’s almost funny.”

His face was blank, but his tone was laced in slight harshness. “Everyone laughs at me and teases me for trying to lighten the mood. I’m successful at getting people to smile, take their minds off the war.”

“You’re also a spoiled prick who had the comfort of their mother for _years_ after Grima returned,” Inigo spat. If the remark insulted Owain at all, he made no show of it.

“You can’t blame your behaviors on being parentless, dumbass, we all are,” Owain rolled to his side, calculating eyes watching Inigo. “Being orphaned at different ages is no special thing when everyone’s orphaned. Besides, like I was saying… you call me spoiled, you and everyone else tease my language, but at least _I’m_ making people happy. What about _you?_

“Sure, sure, you’re the charming Duke of Rosanne, lover of any woman he lays eyes on – do any of them even love you? The only girl I’ve seen give you the time of day is Severa, and that’s just to put you in your place. You prance around with your big _fake_ smiles and try to flirt the smallclothes off everyone you meet, you tell people to take a moment, have tea, forget life’s struggles, and smile. Gods, Lucina tells me how often you pester her with smiling. I’d almost go so far as to say we’re fairly alike. _Almost_.”

Inigo’s head turned to stare back at Owain, eyes narrow in anticipated fury.

“Sure, we both have our goals of making our friends and parents happy. Where we differ is in the fact that _I_ succeed. People _miss_ me when I’m not around. They breathe a sigh of relief at your absence.

“The only person that chases after you is Gerome, because it’s his _job_ ,” Owain finished. While he sounded pleased with himself, he looked bitter. It was clear that the meanspirited words was not what he truly felt.

“By the Dusk Dragon,” Camilla grimaced, repulsed by the statements. Niles folded his arms, nodding. “Ah, yes, teenagers. Truly the most unruly beasts of all.”

The silence didn’t last long. Inigo rolled over, facing away from his companion. “ _Thank_ you in reminding me how I completely _failed_ everything my mother tried to teach me! All of this crap – I can’t dance like her because I lack the grace, I _still_ can’t talk to strangers and everyone hates me because of the way I’ve learned how to _try_ , and no matter how many times I smile and try to make those around me return the action, they never do and never _will_. Are you happy, Owain? Am I finally successful there? Does my failure make you _happy_?”

A deep sigh, and a low, almost unheard mumble. “No. Of course it doesn’t. We’re comrades in arms.”

Then, Owain sat up sharply. “Gods, are you _crying_?” He seemed somewhat disturbed by the realization. “You – You don’t cry, that’s not your role here, Brady cries because that’s who he is, Noire and Yarne cry because they’re always scared, Cynthia cries because she misses home, I cry because I’m always emotional – _you_ crying is about as normal as Lucina or Nah! Gods, or _Laurent_! Though, Gerome’s noted before you have a habit of upsetting yourself…”

“What does it matter to you?” came the returning shout, “We’re stuck in the past with a bunch of people that serve as nothing but painful reminders of who our parents once were!” Inigo sat up sourly, throwing his hands in the air and not caring about the tears continuing to threaten to spill. “There’s no damn point to this! Lucina believe we’ll succeed, but – but will we? And what will become of us! Those aren’t our parents, Owain! The last time my mother looked at me there was so much love in her heart that even you couldn’t conceptualize it into proper words! When this – when Olivia here sees me, she becomes awkward, the only fondness has curiosity at its side. Our parents are _dead_. Nothing we’re doing here is going to fix that.”

Another long stretch of silence. Owain stood, stretching, a frown clear on his face and determination in his eyes. “So _this_ is what’s been bothering you all day. Naga knows I was only going to get it out of you in this cruel, roundabout way. Even dropping my _own_ act for this… gods, you’re a lot, aren’t you?”

“Shut _up_!” Inigo roared, throwing something at the brunet. Owain caught it easily, it was what appeared to be a golden ring with large spikes. He returned it to Inigo’s trunk and sat beside the youth.

“You know that’s not true. They’re still out parents. They still love us. Just because we haven’t been born yet doesn’t mean they’re not worth fighting for. You remember how it… how it felt, when your parents died. Yes, I suppose I was luckier than most of us, Mom didn’t die until I was nearly thirteen… Especially seeing that Tawney disappeared when Lucina was three and Morgan one, and Chrom died four years later… Olivia was one of the very first to go, wasn’t she? Gaius and Sumia died around then, too, Cynthia spent most of her life with Cordelia and Frederick… You’re right. There’s a massive difference between five and twelve. And like Lucina, you were thrust upon your people…”

He trailed off slightly, Inigo blinking tears out of his eyes. “Don’t you want this time’s Inigo to grow up happy? I feel we owe ourselves that much, at least. I want… _all_ of our parents to see us grow up.”

“I want to believe you, I want to see this Virion and Olivia as my own, and yet…”

Owain got up, retreating to his side and pulling out a practice sword. “Let’s make a deal. Let’s spar.”

A cheeky smile appeared on his face, and his voice changed slightly – no longer was it gentle and open, it was now laced with something… else. His hand whirled to his face and he pointed the blade at Inigo.

“Our duel of false lineage and budding hopes shall settle this! If I fall to your sensual touch, I will revoke the words of dreams I gave to empower you and admit to all that is holy that even the blood ever-flowing through acknowledges these heroes of the past are only friend, not flesh!

“If _I_ win,” he paused, a fire in his eyes, “If I overcome Inigo of Indigo Skies, you instead relinquish your stance and realize that these persons of this present are indeed your blood kin.”

A long look passed between the two boys. Slowly, Inigo rose and took Owain’s hand.

“I accept your wager.”

The scene changed.

Once again, it was dark, and many young adults were sitting near a shrine. It was obviously the one from a couple memories back, but this time, it was not in shambles. Offerings were left on the alter and flowers were blooming. The people only looked up when a soft green light manifested into a shimmering image of a woman.

The girl recognizable as Lucina shot to her feet. “The goddess Naga!” she cried, dipping into a bow of respect, “We have fulfilled our duties! The fell dragon Grima has been slain by Mother’s hand, His own. We… we have not yet recovered her, but I am certain we will! Yet, I must ask…”

She turned sheepish, a look of worry flashing about her face. “What… what will become of us now? I am already born, others will soon follow.”

The being smiled gently, opening her arms to all of the lost children. “My brave heroes, you have done well. Hailing from so many nations – from my dear Ylisse, from Plegia, from Rosanne, from Chon’sin, from Ferox… you have earned your rest.”

Everyone cried out in shock as Lucina’s form began to fade. Naga only smiled.

“May you always remember your valiant heroism, even once reborn.”

Everything went to black, the Nohrians glancing about anxiously.

“Is… is it over?” Elise whispered to Leo as the small glowing orbs began to reappear, the blood red giant shrinking. Leo, however, appeared uncertain.

“There was nothing of Nohr. Something isn’t right…”

As the red ball receded, it revealed the still-golden other it had fought. Leo gasped, pointing.

“The – the entity said ‘ _reborn_ ’. Perhaps I wasn’t wrong earlier, perhaps – he truly _does_ have two sets of memory!”

No sooner did he speak the revelation did the light expand to smother them all. Slowly, like before, figures and shapes appeared and condensed.

Unfortunately, much like the first memory they had seen, there was the sound of a crying child.

The room they now found themselves in was dark, but with further inspection it was clear that _this_ was the room that Inigo and Gerome had fled from before, when Cherche had been slain. In the doorway stood a small figure, just as small as before, while two people slept in the bed.

“He’s the same age or so that he was when his mother died,” Niles remarked. He nodded to the bed. “This was never his room. It was _theirs_.”

The little Inigo shuffled over to the side of the bed, grabbing at the person sleeping in it. A soft groan was heard and an oil lamp was lit, revealing a mess of pink hair ruffled from sleep.

“Inigo darling, what’s wrong?” she asked, hoisting the child up onto the bed. All he did in return was cry into her chest, small hands gripping her hair tightly.

“H-Had… a b-bad dream… felt… _really_ r-real… _Mommy_ ,” he sniffed, wet eyes trying to meet hers, “w-we were r-running and, a-and Papa w-wasn’t there, and we were b-being chased by r-really scary monsters, t-the Risen, they k-killed… they k-killed you…”

Before long the child had dissolved into incoherent tears again. This time, the man in bed stirred, propping himself up while still half asleep. “What izzit? What is going on?” His arm made its way across his wife, pulling her and his son into a soft hug. Olivia was busying herself trying to soothe the boy, hands stroking his hair as her face betrayed her concerns.

“V-Virion… I… I want to say it’s nothing, Inigo’s just had a nightmare, but…” She looked up briefly to face her husband as Inigo calmed slightly, clutching tightly to her bedclothes, “he said… he said that I died, in it. That’s… a normal scary dream for a child, but…”

She seemed uncertain. “He… he actually mentioned the _Risen_.”

A deep sigh came from the other adult. “The Risen? But it has been _six years_ since the last of them were offed.”

“Six years where not _once_ have we told any of our children!” Olivia reminded, “Those monsters were too s-scary even for a child’s tale! We’ve never told him about those.”

Virion was more awake now. “Ah, you’re worried over nothing.” “B-But Chrom said that Lucina–” “No, hush, he is okay. He may have just heard the word in passing, or made it up on his own. Inigo, precious child, will you tell your Papa more about the… scary monsters of your dream?”

This was meant to be reassuring. Inigo would babble about some overly terrifying monster, and they would laugh, promise it didn’t exist, and send him off to bed. Instead, Inigo turned to glance at his father, his child eyes dark and disturbingly somber.

“The Risen are d-dead people brought to life by G-Grimleal.”

A worried look between parents. “I-Inigo, honey, what are the Grimleal? I’ve never told you about those, sweetheart,” Olivia questioned softly.

The same haunted look. “They want the evil dragon to come back and kill everyone for peace. But they’re wrong, that’s not how peace works.” A small frown. “Some… some are good, though? They don’t actually wanna… destroy everything.”

“Oh goodness,” Olivia quivered, holding Inigo closer. “Who told you this? You know we never said anything so scary to you. Who is giving you these thoughts?”

Tension filled the room, even the onlookers could feel it.

“When… w-when I went to sleep, She came to me and… She showed me.”

Now even Inigo looked confused, but had stopped crying nestled in Olivia’s arms.

A long moment passed between the parents. Finally, Virion got out of bed with a stretch, combing fingers through his hair.

“I’m going to get someone to make tea. This may be a longer night than I thought.”

As soon as he left, Inigo’s stare focused on the bed, away from Olivia.

“Am… am I… d-doing something wrong?”

“Oh goodness, sweetie, no!” Olivia comforted as Inigo went back to looking at her. She was reluctant at first, but it passed. Olivia’s gaze slipped past her son and to the moonlit night outside of the window.

“Inigo, you know how sometimes you and Gerome play with Mommy’s friends? When we take those fun trips to Ferox and Ylisse?”

He tilted his head. This was an entirely new conversation.

“Y-Yes, they… they’re fun. I… really like Lucina and Owain and Brady. Even though they’re kind of scary… not Lucina, she’s always nice.”

Olivia nodded. At least he was no longer scared. “Yes, of course. W-Well… sometimes, those kids have really bad dreams. I know that one of your friends, Cynthia, has had a dream quite like yours.”

“She isn’t _really_ about to tell him that it’s all real, is she?” Niles muttered to Leo, skeptical. “Even I’d have a hard time trying to convey that to a kid his age.”

“Let’s have story time, okay darling?”

Olivia lay back down in the bed, pulling Inigo with her. She tucked him in beside her, offering a careful smile.

“Once upon a time, there was a band of heroes. Horrible things happened to their world, and the heroes were very sad. They were each other’s only family, for the rest had all been sent to Naga by the evil dragon. It – It was okay though, because they knew that Naga would take care of their families until they could see them again.

“Naga felt bad for the heroes because they were doing their best but were very scared. She took them each and sent them back in time to make sure that the evil, evil dragon could never hurt anyone. They found a way to scare the nasty dragon off forever, and the heroes won! The heroes all disappeared after their victory. Naga was so happy that they did such a good job, She wanted to make them happy and give them back their families.”

Her enthusiasm was lost on the boy. He bit his lip, eyes threatening tears again. “Am… am I one of Her heroes, Mommy?”

“You’re _my_ hero,” Olivia squeezed him tightly, “but… you are one of Her heroes as well.”

A long stretch of silence. “Are… are you going to d-die, Mommy?”

The dancer was aghast. “No! No, my sweet baby, no, I’m not going to die. Mommy is going to be with you forever, right here! I promised you that the first day I ever met you. So did Papa. Our friends all promised their little heroes that this time they would never leave. And I can prove it!

“Today, Inigo, today was the day in the story when I was supposed to see Naga. But I’m right here! Because _you_ and the other heroes saved me!” she affectionately poked his nose, finally eliciting a small giggle from her son.

Virion walked in the next moment, a tray of tea in hand and a rather sleepy Cherche in the hall. He placed the tray at the foot of the bed, getting under the covers and kissing the top of Inigo’s head in one swoop. Inigo immediately perked up at the sight of his father, giving a wide smile. “Papa, I saved Mommy!”

“Ohh, did you now?” Virion teased, handing a cup to Olivia. “You are so smart, little dancer! You got rid of all those silly bad guys and saved the day! Truly heroic!”

The little family came together in a big bear hug, nearly spilling the tea.

The scene changed.

A now young adult Inigo stood in a lavish, but unfamiliar room. He looked… oddly guilty, as though he had had to admit a lie to his parents. But his parents weren’t in front of him. Gerome was, sans mask. He had a rather angry tone.

“ _What_?”

Inigo winced, looking anywhere but at the man before him. “I… I’m leaving. I have… I have a mission. It’s… tonight. I’m going as soon as I… say goodbye to my parents. Which won’t be the easiest task…”

Gerome’s demeanor changed subtly, one from fury to resignation. “Fine. Where are we going?”

Inigo looked cornered, he seemed to want any escape from this moment.

“I’m going somewhere… somewhere you can’t follow.”

“You must be kidding. If nothing more, I am your retainer. It is my entire _life_ that I have devoted to you. Twice over, even.” Gerome softened slightly, from stern to desperate. “I made sure not to lose you during the apocalypse. I’m not going to lose you now, now that we’re at peace.”

He took Inigo’s hand, which sparkled with rings. Slowly, he pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“My life has not just been devoted to you. _You_ are part of it. Without you, I…”

“Gerome.” Inigo’s call was firm, despite the bright smile he had. “I’m not leaving _forever_. I’ll be back before you know it. But in order for me to come back, I first have to leave.”

Suddenly Gerome’s hands were tight on his biceps. “Not if I have any say in it.” The Nohrians had to admit, while he sounded scary, his eyes showed something else.

Inigo feigned surprise. “Oh, my! Have you been taking lessons in manhandling? You’re certainly making this quite hard, love…”

Gerome closed in, but stopped as his lips were a mere moment away from capturing Inigo’s.

“There is no other way to properly tell you goodbye. I’ve learned that much.”

Two sad pairs of eyes glimpsed into each other, as if they could see the other’s soul. Finally, Inigo broke it, shutting them and gently pressing his forehead to Gerome’s.

“Think of it not as a goodbye, but as a… so long, for now.”

The scene changed.

This time, the setting was extremely familiar.

“Are we in the chambers of Nohr?”

Xander’s question was left unanswered as someone in the bed before them bolted upright, visibly shaking even in the dark of the room. A sob was heard, and not to long after a lamp had been lit, the area seen now confirming they were in Laslow’s room. It appeared he wasn’t the only current inhabitant, however.

Odin brought the light source closer to the crying Laslow, nudging him with a certain gentleness. “I’m sorry. I know, I know, it’s awful, but you need to try and calm.” One arm wrapped about him softly, a faint kiss pressed to his jawline. “I’m sincerely sorry that my presence could not keep the past at bay.”

Laslow shuddered, leaning into the embrace as he tried to slow his tears. “W-Where is…?”

“Selena will be here any moment, she had something to attend to. You know that we’ll always be here for a deathday, just like you’d be there for us.”

“What about the war?” Laslow whispered, eyes staring unblinking at the light source.

Odin paused for that, giving Laslow a rather frantically used opening. “Corrin’s forces keep growing. Perhaps Lord Xander and Lord Leo won’t be swift to join, but Lady Camilla… we can’t let Selena be stranded here! You know that none of us can handle being on our own for even a day or so.”

Laslow cupped the lantern. “Being stuck in a world not your own is one thing. Being stuck in said world _alone_ is another entirely. I – I cannot _bear_ the idea…”

Odin hushed him then, lowering the lantern back to the tableside. “Hey. You’re just worked up because you saw Olivia die again. Remember what we did thirty years ago? When we were still from the old timeline?”

The mercenary took a deep breath, trying to think. “It’s… difficult. Ten years in Nohr and we’ve hardly aged… frankly, I can’t believe the royals haven’t called us out on it. You have to wonder how much time has passed back home…”

The mage laughed, rolling his eyes. “As I was _saying_ – back when we were complete brats, and had to lodge together for the first time. You felt as though there was no purpose to the fight, then, so we dueled to convince each other.”

“You won,” Laslow acknowledged, voice fond, “gods damn you, you beat me to the ground and still helped me back to my feet. You… assured me that they were still our parents, and that… it meant something to fight for them.” He glanced back to Odin, longing etched across his face. “I’ve never forgotten _that_. I’m still… ever grateful that you managed to persuade me.”

A chuckle from the blond as he nosed Laslow’s ear. “Well, it’s just like that. We’re in a new world, outside the comfort of our space and time. You’re having doubts about whether the reason we fight is still true.”

A frown. “We aren’t fighting for our parents this time. We owe this world nothing.”

Odin returned his look.

“Then why haven’t we left for home?”

Guilt passed over the other, and the mage pulled the blankets closer with a deep sigh.

“Look. We haven’t left because this is who we are. Three foolish adventurers that have a desire to help save the world. We saved ours. Why did we agree to save another? You and Selena are mercenaries. The Silent Dragon approached us, knowing we had a hand in saving one world from an evil dragon, and asked for our help to save another from the same fate. There was no offered money, but you two said yes. Everyone knows I agreed because I can’t stay in one place for too long without losing my head.”

Hesitance. “We… agreed for different reasons. Selena… she decided she had to run after you. I…”

“You agreed for the same reason why we both _truly_ agreed.” A hand laced through gray hair, going down to take shelter with another hand, “We lost our mothers and fathers, our lands, our homes to the forces of evil. We were children fighting a hopeless cause. A handful of teenagers can’t kill a god.

“When Anankos told of us his world, of the warring Hoshido and Nohr, of his secret land of ruins… it felt like our own. A country conquers all of its neighbors and tries to snuff out hope while an evil dragon destroys the world…

“We didn’t want more orphans; more people like us. People that were fighting a hopeless cause, children that wanted nothing but the safety found in the arms of parents. We will use our skills again, we will slay another god, we will rejoice at the end of another war, and then, Laslow, when we do not feel the pressure of letting our friends here become weary like us, then we shall return home.”

“So we shall,” Laslow murmured, pulling Odin back down in the bed. Odin wrapped his arm over the shorter, kissing his forehead.

“We’ll be home before you know it.”

Everything slowly trickled away to darkness. This time, when the lights reappeared, they were all the same bloody red as the original memory had been. Now, instead of floating peacefully, they were throbbing and darting around, like a thrown organ.

“Leo, what’s going on?” Camilla asked, bringing Elise closer to her bosom.

Leo didn’t do anything for a few moments except gape. “After all of the memories are finished, the spell is supposed ease into some normal dream… at which point our grip on his mind fades and we, too, begin to dream separately. This… isn’t good.”

“Clearly,” Niles hissed as one orb flew dangerously close. In fact, many were getting too close for comfort.

“He’s done fighting himself. _Now_ he wants to fight us,” Xander warned, sensing the animosity the balls harbored. Camilla shielded Elise from one, and with a gasp, she disappeared immediately.

“B-Big sister!” Elise breathed, edging towards Xander and taking his hand. Another light shot into Niles and he, too, vanished.

“Is this the defense system you warned us of in the beginning?” Xander questioned, hand on Elise’s shoulder to comfort her.

Before Leo could answer, they were each stung with a crimson orb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and we're done here! See you guys next Thursday - how will Inigo react to such a violation? Comments and Kudos rock my world!


	8. Not as Expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's??? Thursday??? When did that happen???  
> Hope y'all are ready for angst, more angst, and some information from Selena's duel with Xander coming back in more detail!!!  
> Warnings: blood, vomiting, anxiety/panic attacks, canonical character death, VERY brief allusions to suicidal thoughts, birthright spoilers
> 
> Basically this chapter is a fuckfest bc the Nohrians have gotta learn that messing with people's brains is no bueno

A shout, equal parts surprise and fear, disturbed the silent woods. The Nohrians had just regained consciousness in time to see Inigo leap to his feet and start running. Unfortunately, this action spurred Severa to wakefulness too.

She blinked sleepily at the spot that Inigo had occupied before seeming to realize he was gone. “Inigo?” she yawned, pressing her hand to the earth beside her. The empty space appeared to send an intense jolt through her as she stood up straight, not even bothering to put her hair up before sprinting in the direction he had fled, calling his name.

Surprisingly, Xander, too, got to his feet and followed with haste.

Niles frowned. “Should we follow them?”

Leo was rather hesitant to respond. “I… don’t think it’d be best to send you, Niles.”

Camilla agreed, smoothing Elise’s hair. “Quite right, Leo. Xander is very fond of Laslow, and the same is true in return, which is more I can say than for the rest of us.”

“It’s our fault!” Elise pouted with a huff, crossing her arms. “Inigo was scared because we made him revisit bad memories! We didn’t even ask him permission.”

Elise was right, and now that the memories had resurfaced, it was more than a task to get them to shut back down.

Inigo didn’t know exactly what he was running from nor where he was going, he just knew he had to escape. He ignored the blind pain that threatened to paralyze him, he ignored the hot tears, he ignored the cries of his name. He ignored everything he could until he stumbled over a tree root and fell to his knees, shaking violently. Too many images flashed through his mind’s eye, too many horrible, nauseating occurrences… gods, he felt like he was going to be sick–

He barely registered the touch of hands on his shoulders, when did he get on his hands and knees – that voice, he knew that voice…

“Inigo, look at me, look, it’s just me, it’s Severa, come on, work with me…”

His weak vision managed to trace up to the angular face and tangled brown hair. Severa. Severa was good. Severa meant he was safe, they were safe, everything would be okay…

Severa watched as some form of recognition glossed over his eyes, giving a sigh of relief. That was good. When one of them had such a severe panic attack, anything could happen – sometimes, it’d just be a messy breakdown, with thick tears being the worst of problems. Other times…

“See, yeah, it’s just me. Good ol’ Sev. Do you know where we are? …Do you know _when_ we are?”

She hoped for the best – he was still hyperventilating, and she knew that would continue until he felt completely and totally secure. Now, she was used to Inigo having nightmares, but such a strong outburst wasn’t usual for him. He’d wake scared and tearful, but with some comfort and quiet he’d bounce back.

A violent reaction like this was much more like herself.

Like Owain.

“W-We… w-we’re in Ylisse…” Severa nodded, encouraging, at his certainty. That was both good and bad. Ylisse meant they were home, but at least in Nohr she could easily calm him down with the obvious points that everything was safe and no one was dead. Which timeline he thought he was in, however…

“We… w-we need to g-go!” he panted, eyes darting past her shoulder, “If we don’t, surely they’ll–!” his voiced died off with the sound of being strangled, and before Severa could do anything he was back on his feet and brandishing his sword.

Xander took another step forward, eyes watching the weapon as he carefully raised his hands.

“Steady, friend. I only wish to make sure you’re okay.” A slow look of calm concern overtook his face. “Do you recognize me, Laslow?”

“T-That’s – That’s not m-my _name_!” Inigo whispered, hand twitching. Immediately apologetic, Xander nodded.

“I’m incredibly sorry, Inigo. I’m not yet used to this. Now,” his voice issued a gentle command, “put your sword down. You look likely to faint.”

As he took a step forward, Inigo took a defensive – or was it offensive? – stance. “Back away, fiend! You’ll deal no harm to our company!”

“That is correct. I do not plan in engaging a fight with you nor Sel–Severa. Please put down your sword before you get yourself hurt.”

He swung his sword down angrily through the undergrowth, a weak growl escaping his lips. “What is _this_? Some… s-some Grimleal t-trick? Lowly Plegian l-lies?”

“Inigo,” Severa warned, getting close again, “Inigo, calm down. Look at me, look at me Inigo.”

She turned him to face her, immediately dismayed at how pale he had gotten, how badly he was shaking. She pointed to Xander.

“That’s Crown Prince Xander of Nohr. You’re friends. What timeline is it, Inigo?” she carefully gripped his shoulders tighter, “Tell me. What timeline is it?”

His eyes slowly went blank, almost unseeing, and his lips quivered. Severa was afraid he was about to pass out when finally, he uttered a soft “Good. We’re in the good timeline,” and stole out of her grasp. He stumbled to a tree, retching what appeared to be mainly blood.

“Shit!” Severa exclaimed, yanking him back as gently as she could. He was still shivering, and breathing much too fast. She cupped his face, trying not to let panic rule her voice.

“Inigo, you’ve gotta breathe. Breathe with me, okay?”

She pulled him into a hug, wincing at the tangy scent of blood in the air as she held him closer, chest to chest. He buried into her, fingers digging into her back as he tried to regain control. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stopped trembling.

“What in Naga’s name did you dream about?” Severa asked, cautious curiosity getting the better of her. Xander could barely hear his mumble, muffled further by her shirt.

“I… I-I saw _everything_ ,” he breathed, respiration still somewhat faulty.

Severa was immediately horrified. “What – _everything_? Gawds, that _never_ happens! It’s – It’s okay though, I’ve got you,” she recovered, lacing fingers through his hair. “Let’s get back to the others, okay? Can you stand back up?”

The reaction was immediate, and practically broke Xander’s heart. Inigo tensed completely, voice barely audible through fretful tears.

“ _No –_ not back t-to the others, I can’t – t-they’ll all _stare_ at me…”

Severa’s gaze turned up to the blond, pursed lips saying all. Xander curtly shook his head, eyes hardened like steel.

The others would most certainly _not_ stare at him. Not if Xander forced them to comply.

As the paladin swiftly made to leave, Severa focused back to Inigo. “Hey, they won’t stare at you. You’re not all that interesting, you know,” she smiled, pleased with herself, at the weak chuckle, “and if anyone _does_ , I’ll skewer them. Can you walk?”

The pair slowly made their way back to the makeshift campsite. Upon returning, it was clear that the conversation being held by the other five was Xander’s attempt to distract. Inigo nearly froze at the sight of them regardless, but Severa was there, she was firm, and she grounded him.

They had no way of telling time in the forest, but it appeared that only a couple hours had passed before they continued forward. Inigo was incredibly unsteady; the slightest noises made him jump. It was clear, physically, that he was deteriorating even faster due to the morning’s escapade, but mentally he seemed to have recovered.

He showed this especially by denying Xander’s offer to carry him, which the others had assumed Severa would back up, for his own good – and yet, she did not, furtive glances rushing between the paladin and the mercenary.

His display of willpower alone was enough to amaze the wary foreigners. He held Severa’s hand like a lifeline, and seemed barely aware of his surroundings, barely conscious.

They couldn’t help but acknowledge internally the only thing he said while leading with Severa that day:

_“It’s fine, I’m fine… I’ve been alone with much worse.”_

Had they not meddled in his memories, they would have laughed at such a statement. Now, however…

Thoughts of a little boy screaming for his mother had them certain that Inigo was not lying.

Throughout the afternoon’s slow trudge towards Ylisstol, none of them spoke about what they had seen last night. It was not until Severa turned on them after setting up a new camp, after the stars had come out and peeked through the leaves, after Inigo was soundly asleep on the forest floor, head in Severa’s lap.

“What did you _do_ to him?” she hissed at Leo, who in return gave himself away with a look of guilt. Within mere seconds, both he and Elise had crumbled and avidly told of what they saw last night.

“You were _so_ fucking curious about our pasts that you forced it out of him? Didn’t you stop and think, for one _second_ , that the reason why we haven’t told you guys about that shit is because _we don’t want to remember_?” Severa wrung her hand through her long, tangled hair with a growl, “Gawds, and on _Inigo_ , he was one of the first to lose his parents… If Gerome was here, if he found out how you all invaded his _privacy_ …”

“Gerome… was Inigo’s retainer, correct?” Xander responded, “Just as you are Owain’s, and the other two royals? A lot of names were thrown about, but I’m afraid that most people were not explained.”

His statement was imploring, as if he assumed Severa would give in now and give more details of the past. Instead, she huffed, stroking Inigo’s cheek lightly.

“So help me _Naga_ , if you pull that shit on him again, I don’t give a shit who you are, I will have your _heads_.” Her lip quivered in that moment, a look of pain faintly crossing her face. “None… _none_ of us deserve to go through all that hell again… Living through it once was enough to drive some of us to… to nearly…”

She did not have to finish her statement for the others to grasp what she meant.

They had, originally, grown up in a world that’s fate was filled with destruction.

Leo, especially, remembered the dreams Corrin had once shared with him about a world where they had sided with Hoshido, had fought against Nohr, had never discovered Valla’s meddling. Those dreams scared Corrin; this variant in particular always ended the same way:

Xander and Elise were dead, and he was king.

He wouldn’t have had the guts to follow through with life, then, either.

“I apologize,” he whispered, not able to meet Severa’s eyes, “I promise to never attempt to bring forth his memories again.”

“Good!” she snapped, resting her head back against a tree. Within minutes, the exhausted brunette fell asleep, thumb still idly stroking the dancer’s cheek.

“Leo.”

The blond in question winced at the sharp violet eyes that stared toward him. He knew the unasked question. He didn’t know how to answer.

“They’re different, it’ll be different,” Camilla urged, darting briefly to look at the sleeping duo, “We both know my darling retainer is not so sensitive. They grew up in different _countries_ , Leo, think about how much we’d be able to learn by looking at–”

“No,” came the strangled response. “I said I wouldn’t–”

“You said you wouldn’t do it to Inigo again. Nothing about her.”

Camilla was too curious, he knew. He shouldn’t give in to her pleading eyes and stern, commanding voice. She was his sister, but – gods damn it, Severa was his _friend_!

But – But Camilla had a _point_. This was _Severa’s_ country that they were in, it was _this_ kingdom that had been focused on in the past. What parts of it had they seen in Inigo’s memories? Just the crumbling shrine, and then the tent he had shared with Owain. And – they had to learn about these others they’d surely be meeting, didn’t they? The only ones they truly _knew_ from the memories of Inigo had been Olivia and Virion, his parents, Gerome and Cherche, their clear retainers, and, however brief, Lucina.

Who _was_ Lucina?

She seemed important, to be sure. She appeared as the head of the band of youths, the one to lead them to the past, the one that summoned the odd deity, Naga.

They had obviously met everyone of importance from Rosanne.

What would they find in Ylisse?

Niles sighed faintly as he saw Leo’s resolve crumble. He wasn’t surprised, exactly. Leo was far too curious for his own good, and Camilla’s enthusiasm was only encouraging it.

It only took a few moments for the five of them to become settled in the same darkness as before, orbs lighting up about them. They were ready for the fighting orbs this time, ready for the red giant to engulf them.

It was a lot harder to be ready for an immediate battle.

“Milady, _run_!”

A massive horde of Risen swamped the area, and a few figures that they had not seen before stood out among the corpses: A blonde, regal looking woman, who had swiftly picked up a young boy, a man with dusty brown hair who clutched her protectively, a large man in a suit of armor whose face immediately struck terror into Elise especially, and – there she was.

A girl with long brown pigtails, a small weapon in hand, standing between the young family and the armored man.

At the shout, the lady turned and fled without hesitance, taking what must have been her son with her. The man she had been with immediately took out any encroaching enemies.

Severa still stood there.

Slowly, the brunet deserted Severa and the mounted knight, fiercely loyal to his wife. He would not let her be harmed, it seemed.

“She said she and her father retained the royal family, correct? That Owain was the son of their Exalt’s – their King, I believe – his sister?”

Elise gasped at Niles’ musing. “That man had the same hair as Owain did in the other memories!”

Unfortunately, they did not have much longer to consider the possibilities in front of them. Little Severa was doing her best to attack the monsters around her, but she was quickly tossed aside and thrown to the ground. In moments, the remaining fighter had wheeled around, charging after anyone who dared approach Severa.

He fought with more power than the Nohrians were used to seeing. And yet, Xander somehow felt his style seemed… familiar.

It wasn’t until the beast of a soldier offed one of the biggest Risen, giving a triumphant cry, that Xander finally pieced it together.

_“Pick a god and pray!”_

Severa’s father.

Perhaps, before, he could have assumed that this was any other soldier, that Severa was here as well was random. Now, there was no doubt.

His usually deep, serious voice instead trembled without his choice.

“Inigo’s first… we saw his mother die. Severa’s father will die in this one.”

No sooner had it been spoken that a sickening crunch of bone could be heard, the magnificent retainer being surrounded entirely. There was a horrid roar of flame, and within mere moments there was only one last visible part of the great knight:

His head, charred and smoldering, bloody cheek sticking to the grass on the ground.

Inigo had screamed when his mother, Olivia, had died, and had cried in his father’s arms.

Severa, too, let out a shriek. It was not one of terror, however: it was mighty, and it held some of the most potent anger they had ever known.

Yet her blade was tiny, even as she swung it. She would be brutally _murdered_ by the Risen–

A blur of white flew through the battle field, and Severa was no longer on the ground.

“A – A Pegasus Knight?” Camilla stammered, in awe of both the pure beast and its beautiful rider. Her hair was tremendously long, a lovely red, yet despite the battle it was perfectly in place. She managed to ride her beast elegantly, lance in hand, despite the struggling child in front of her.

Now, now Severa gave a heaving sob. Face screwed up in pain, she reached out to the corpse below them, dropping her blade–

“ _Daddy!”_

As soon as the grief had come, it nearly vanished. Tears were washing her face of the grime and blood, but still she turned to the woman and started shouting.

“M-Mom _stop_! You’ve gotta – get Daddy, he’s gotta still be – turn her _around_ , this – this isn’t fair!”

“I know, dear,” the woman soothed, allowing a brief hug, “Daddy – he’s not going to get back up, Sev. You know your father.” A deep look of bitterness suddenly came over the Pegasus knight. “For once, Frederick the Wary was not yet wary enough…”

It quieted for only a few moments before Severa put up more of a fight. “Where were _you_!? If you – if you had been here with us, then Daddy – he’d still be _alive_!” Her face, in her rage, had turned almost as red as the woman’s hair, and the most loathsome look the child could muster was suddenly administered–

“If it had been L-Lord _Chrom_ , you’d be willing to go back for him! You were with Lucina and Morgan, _weren’t_ you? Even though they’re as safe from this stupid fight as can be! T-They’re Lord Chrom’s children – and you wish they were _yours_ instead – instead of _me_!”

A look of extreme hurt passed over the flier’s face. She spluttered briefly, emotion overrunning her brain, and entirely missed the warning that came from a mounted woman below:

“Cordelia, an archer!”

The female paladin’s call fell on deaf ears. All Cordelia could think in that moment was one simple sentence:

“Severa, I love _my_ daughter, I love _you_ –!”

Severa gaped as an arrow embedded itself in her mother’s neck, cutting the prodigy off. Whatever Cordelia tried to say next only came out as the blood oozing from her lips, spat into Severa’s face.

Then came an arrow to the eye of the pegasus, and as the pure white became dirtied with crimson death, the scene changed.

This was different.

The five huddled together as scenes rapidly flashed about them. The only constant was Severa’s form, aging as they went. There was almost a roar as the memories moved too swiftly – clearly, something was wrong.

Leo had been right to assume that Severa was going to fight back. They weren’t supposed to be here.

As quickly as it had started, it had stopped. A now fully grown Severa stood before them, back to them, in the middle of a rather nice room. She faced a canopy bed, upon which a girl was seated, wearing only her smallclothes, blue hair tousled and a mischievous grin–

Lucina. That was the girl who took them to the past, their leader.

“Where’s Kjelle?” she asked, eyed dipping flirtatiously, biting her lip in anticipation, “is she taking a bath? She takes so _long_ in the bath–”

“Milady,” Lucina’s eyes widened at Severa’s softer tone, the brunette coming forward to kneel at the bedside. She took the other’s hands, bringing them to her lips in a gentle kiss before continuing, “Kjelle will be here shortly, but I… need to admit something.”

The excitement drained from Lucina’s face, leaving only a weary grin as a knowing, longing emotion overtook her.

“You’re chasing after my cousin, aren’t you? You… you’re leaving. Now.”

A smooth hand stroked Severa’s cheek, Lucina’s skin was darker than Severa’s, though not nearly as dark as the brown of Inigo’s or Olivia’s. Just a hint, yet it made Severa seem as pale as the moon.

“Chase after him and his silly quests. I know that Aunt Lissa and I, especially, will feel more at ease knowing that he is still in your capable hands.”

“Owain’s _such_ a pain,” Severa mumbled in return, cheeks pink at their close proximity.

Yet her words confirmed it all for the onlookers.

Lucina was the crown princess of this kingdom – of Ylisse.

“Of course,” Lucina simpered humorously, “that’s why he’s lucky to have you to keep him in line.”

“I’ll be sure to bring him home safely.”

Severa stopped suddenly, standing swiftly and spinning to face the Nohrians, seemingly searching for something. Lucina had not moved, even when Severa’s eyes found the intruders and she gave a furious shriek:

“Get _out_ of my damn _head_!”

A blistering heat followed, and soon after Leo found himself panting on the ground, next to his siblings and Niles, in the darkness of the forest. Severa still wasn’t done with them.

Awake now, as well, she immediately began grabbing at the rocks surrounding her, hurtling them towards those who had snooped on her dreams. Niles shielded Leo and Elise instantly, Xander batting at a stone to keep it from Camilla’s head.

Obscenities were being thrown at them just as sharply. Those, however, were loud enough to wake the man sleeping in Severa’s lap.

Inigo blinked open his eyes slowly, taking a moment to assess what was happening. Once he had realized what was going on, the dancer gripped Severa’s arms tightly, his voice as incredulous as hers was hostile: “Sev, what in Naga’s name are you _doing_?”

One of her thin fingers jabbed in Leo’s direction, her eyes filling with furious tears, “I told him not to fucking dive into our memories again, and he didn’t listen! _Gawds_ , t-they saw a private moment with L-Lucy, I feel so – so _violated_!”

“You only said not to do it to Inigo again,” Camilla chastised, not at all enjoying the stones tossed at them. “You two keep your mouths shut so tight about the past – if we’re stuck in your world, we need to know what its history is!”

Inigo blushed horribly at the mention of them peering into his mind, slowly sitting up to better comfort Severa. She only then stopped her assault, intense emotion still riddling her face.

“When _we_ were put in your world, when _we_ went to Nohr with only the faintest ideas of what the kingdom was like – we just sucked it up and did as we were told! We didn’t – we didn’t _pry_ for personal histories. We could’ve, Owain knew magic! Would you have wanted us to spy on _your_ memories – memories of the concubine wars? Or, or what about King Garon slowly being poisoned by Anankos’ control?”

“That is _enough_ ,” Inigo hissed, acknowledging the affronted looks on the royals’ faces. Face etched in exhaustion and pleading, he thumbed away one of Severa’s stray tears.

“What’s done is done, and I’m certain it shan’t take place again. Hold yourself high, don’t let a drop of shame consume you – if Lucina was here, you know she’d forgive, no matter how hurt. And let’s not forget about Owain. He’d take this in stride, he’d use it to tell more stories.”

Severa slowly pulled Inigo’s hand away from her face. “You didn’t say _Owain_ would forgive. He… he _would_ , but… he’d _never_ forget.” Her voice turned even more bitter in that moment, “None of us have _ever_ been good at that. Forgetting.”

Xander chose this moment to voice his thoughts. “We are deeply sorry for intruding upon your personal lives. I must admit, however,” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “of recent you’ve spoken of your father with such pride. Now, having seen him in action – he truly was a most noble man.”

“ _Is_ ,” Severa corrected, a bite at her tongue. She stood, combing her fingers through her hair as she dragged Inigo to his feet as well.

“Come on,” she murmured, not meeting anyone’s eyes, “We’ve got a trek before us still. We should be at Ylisstol by the end of the day. No more breaks – we can’t stop again. We’re running out of time…”

She did not have to explain any further. Despite his protests, it was obvious that Inigo not last another day without a healer.

They had to hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOMF OKAY THERE WE GO now on to Ylisse!!! Next chapter we'll be reaching Ylisstol!!! More familiar faces!!! Get hyped!!! I'm running on no sleep so I'm using a lot of exclamation points!!!


	9. Ylisstol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13 hours of sleep??? A perfect score after being the first person in 200+ students to finish in a chem exam??? Finally pulling a new bunny in Heroes??? It's ya girl, uh, GrammarHawk here everyone, and I'm alive! I hope you all had a great week, and if not, I'm still cheering you on!! You can do it!  
> At last, we have reached Ylisstol - and with it, more characters we all know and love are appearing. I just finished chapter thirteen! It took me a month to write but that's because I love angst and it's hard to stop writing such quality pain. Buckle up folks because the story is now truly in motion.

It was one thing to know that they had to move quickly to ensure Inigo’s survival.

It was another entirely to perform it.

Inigo, damn the man, was frustratingly stubborn. Despite having lost entirely too much blood, he refused to be dependent on anyone else.

Except Severa. Holding her hand made him feel empowered enough to take on anything.

Still, despite their hurry, it was night when they entered the beautiful Ylisstol. Severa knew this city like the back of her hand, but she didn’t know where they should go – the moon was high in the sky, stars shining brightly, and there was _no one_ in the streets.

That was unusual.

Her heart kept pulling her toward the center of Ylisse’s heart, toward the palace. Her gut, however, knew that she shouldn’t take them there.

Owain was kidnapped. Something was very wrong in the affairs of their world, if the Risen were active. The castle _had_ to be compromised. Hopefully that did not mean the entire family that resided there was as well. No, she had to do something else.

She was a noble retainer of the royal family. If anyone was going to know where the secret hideaways for the royalty’s protection were located, it’d be her. And she’d have to do it fast; they were running out of time.

Her fellow mercenary had long since stopped watching where he was going, closing his eyes and trusting Severa to not lead him astray. That wasn’t what scared her most, though.

Inigo wasn’t even trying to smile anymore.

She froze in her tracks only at the sound of an awed comment from Elise:

“Wow, this… feels a lot like Windmire!”

A shiver ran down Severa’s spine. No. Ylisstol was _nothing_ like Windmire. People should’ve been out, even in the night, _someone_ should have stumbled across them by now–

But Elise was _right_. It was the same feeling Severa had noticed when she first came to Nohr. Before she had known about the underground capital. Before she realized that thieves and worse roamed the streets where civilians dared not walk.

There were eyes on them.

If the Nohrians noticed, only Xander gave way – his hand strayed ever so close to Siegfried. The look in Niles’ eye, too, made it seem he understood the situation.

The hairs on the back of the spitfire’s neck stood up. They were a bumbling group of seven – five of which were foreigners to the very concept of Ylissean culture, and even Inigo himself _looked_ foreign. And the siblings of the group – dressed gaudily, dressed like princes and princesses usually are. Dressed _rich_.

She strained to try and hear any development around her. Unfortunately, she could not pick up the whispers from nearby.

_“Seven people! Shit, that’s quite a group – they look armed. Nothing we can’t handle, but I’m surprised at their balls.”_

_“Two of them look Plegian. Maybe the others are Valmese – Rosanne still hasn’t offered aid, much less the rest of the continent.”_

_“Hush, they could hail from Ferox, and Ferox has joined our side in this matter!”_

_“How likely is that, though? And after we just received word that the second prince of Ylisse was captured? Our allies wouldn’t be so stupid to come out like this. Picking up on anything?”_

_“Y-Yes, they – I can smell blood.”_

_“Tsk. That’s enough for me. Let’s off ‘em, men.”_

_“W-Wait! You didn’t l-let me finish. The scent, it’s – it’s extremely familiar.”_

_“Gods, no… we knew that if the last prince fell, his companions would as well. This band – they must be their murderers. We ought to – wait, stop, what are you doing!”_

Severa barely heard the last sentence before a massive shape shot out of the darkness. Panic and hope surged equally through her, and at the last moment she threw out her arm to halt her foreign friends from doing anything further than brandishing their weapons – it worked, just barely, and the result was not at all what had been expected by the Nohrians.

Obviously, this was some rabid beast out for their blood. They should’ve been warned that Ylisse was so dangerous at night! Now the creature was going to attack them, killing them ruthlessly–

Instead, it bowled over Inigo, tackling him to the ground in a surprisingly gentle manner. The head of the monster brushed over his face, almost in a… nuzzle, of sorts.

Inigo, who had at first been very surprised, tossed his arms about the animal’s neck, burying his face into the cool fur. “By Naga, it’s _you_. What an extraordinary welcome…”

A voice split through the heads of those near, reminding them terribly of their friends back at home – specifically, Corrin, Kaden, and Keaton. The dragonkin and beastshifters had always been able to communicate telepathically in beast form, and this feeling was nearly the same.

Then – was this a shifter as well?

“I can’t believe it’s you!” came the psychic cry, “G-Gods above, when I caught scent of your blood, I thought we were done for, that you had been killed – but no, you’ve both returned! Severa’s blood is much more… faint.”

At that the beastkin, whatever it was, pressed its head against Severa. She noticeably flinched before giving a humongous sigh, pressing her hand affectionately to what appeared to be a massive rabbit’s head.

“Everyone, this is Yarne. Don’t be afraid. He’s a nuisance at most.”

“Hey!”

Slowly, weapons were sheathed. It appeared that this was not some sort of danger…

Their minds changed on that subject again as a bunch of silhouettes appeared, a majority on horseback, and encircled them.

Weapons were brought back out. Perhaps this was still a dangerous situation.

It seemed so – immediately the faintest shadows of lances, axes, and swords could be seen pointed toward them, pointed at everyone but Yarne – who, in return, shrank suddenly, a proper voice ringing out in the night instead of telepathy:

“Guys, wait – it’s okay, it’s _them_ –!”

As Yarne and Severa appeared to help Inigo to his feet, the soft huff of a woman was heard. “Doesn’t mean anyone they’re with is friendly.”

Her voice sounded strained. Hopeful, almost. Desperate for Yarne to be correct. Finally, there was a clank of metal against the road, and the rider in the middle spoke:

“Laurent, give us some light. Noire, keep an arrow on the tallest. Vaike – keep trained on the smallest.”

A scoff as Xander pulled Elise closer to him. “You askin’ Teach to kill a _child_?”

The gruff voice went unanswered as a slim silhouette on the ground raised a hand, palm facing the night sky as a soft light began to form. A young man in glasses, large hat obscuring his violet hair, was illuminated. More orbs of light seemed to echo from the first, coming to dance around all of them.

The second Severa and Inigo were able to be seen, looks of elation appeared on the younger faces of the group. True, it appeared most of the natives seemed young, only early- to mid-twenties, but a couple of them – a muscled blond man, axe pointed toward Elise, a thinner man with the same purple hair of the mage, and the man giving orders, his face tight with suspicion – were clearly older adults.

Severa’s grip on her friend went slack at the sight of the leader, but luckily Yarne had no problem keeping Inigo steady. (Now, in the light, the Nohrians noticed his long ears and tail – truly a beastkin, now there was certainly no doubt.) Despite his clear aging, despite the tough looking brown beard he now sported, despite the new scars on his face – even those who had never truly met him could recognize him from what they glimpsed of Severa’s past.

The brunette’s lip quivered as the man’s gaze softened, dismounting from his steed. Slowly, he opened his arms, and she took no more hesitance to run at him and embrace.

Arms around his shoulders, feet dangling as he returned her hug, she couldn’t help but give a short sob.

“ _Daddy!_ ”

Soon, the weapons around them had lowered. Xander, still holding Elise closely, could not restrain himself but giving a soft, gentle smile, reflecting back to his duel with Severa.

He had thought, then, that it would have been a privilege to meet the man. Now, seeing him before them… he could not deny that he still felt that way.

The man – they knew him to be Frederick, now – deeply returned the embrace of his daughter, burying his face to her matching hair.

“When I heard Prince Owain had been captured, I feared that you and the Duke must be dead,” he whispered, “I could think of nothing else that would stop you from him.”

“I’m _sorry_ , I’m so sorry Daddy, I – I _tried_ , I _tried_ to get to him, but it – it was too late…”

“Yes, good sir, it is not her fault,” Xander immediately added, earning him some interesting looks. “We – We hail from across the sea. We were with them when the… _Risen_ attacked. There was nothing able to be done.”

“I see,” Frederick responded, suspicion still present in his eyes. Before he could continue an investigation to the five strangers, he was cut off by a yelp from Yarne and a following soft voice from Laurent, the mage: “We need a healer. Quickly.”

Yarne was kneeling next to Inigo, whose legs had nearly given out, and was now shaking badly. He kept his arm about him sturdily, Inigo looked faint, his eyes narrowed in weak focus as he attempted to not pass out, teeth gritted.

Severa, at once, stifled an expletive as Frederick once again mounted his horse, face stern. “Yarne, carry him back – it would be of no use for him to continue to lose energy. From the blood loss it looks he has, he’s likely freezing, and you’re the warmest of us all by far. Noire – ride ahead, alert the others that seven more our joining our ranks in the Underground. Vaike… stay at the back. If any of these foreigners makes a shifty move, you know what to do.”

“The Underground?” Severa asked as they began to walk, hesitance in her voice, “I… I thought that we only used the Underground when…”

A sharp nod came from the girl next to her, her blonde bob bouncing. “Afraid so, Severa. All… _all_ of the Ylissean royal family has been captured. Owain… he was just the last. We had hoped that his disappearance with you and Inigo would bode well for our nation’s survival…” her voice turned bitter, “We just received news from our spy channels today. That… he had been caught as well. For tonight’s patrol, Father told Sir Frederick that we ought to take Brady or Maribelle with us, in case… something happened. Miriel, ha, she instantly did not approve of taking Maribelle – said it’d do more harm than good at this point, with the state of mind she’s in. Noire immediately pointed out that Brady hated our patrolling, that it scared him – she’s right of course.

“But Severa,” she glanced at her fondly, the smallest of smiles appearing on her face, “It’s… it’s so good to have you back. Both of you. It’ll definitely raise morale. We… _I_ missed you, Sev.”

The fondness reflected upon Severa’s face, too, at the comment. She took a deep breath.

“I miss all of you too. I missed _you_ , Kjelle. I… I’m happy we’re back.”

“It’s going to be hard, you know. I hope you haven’t been lazing around while on your grand journey. I trust you’ve kept up with your training?”

Severa couldn’t help but give a short laugh.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!! I'll see you all next week, lovelies!  
> Also! If you're interested, this: 5049781593 is my ID in Heroes! I accept all requests (unless I don't have space, RIP) and only delete people if they haven't been on in 4+ weeks. If you've found Karma, you've got the right person!  
> Also I've been meaning to do this but I forget easily: if you want to stop by on tumblr and chat, PLEASE do, I'm extremely soft and friendly (and!!! I love getting requests for stories ;))  
> rainbowgrimreaper - my main  
> yourloveandsupport - positivity blog!!  
> askmaplemaddie - lmao hetalia ask blog if you're interested or want to see my face I guess  
> pressingmybuttons - THIS is the one you'll probably want bc it's the video game blog, primarily pokemon and fire emblem!!  
> Leave kudos and comments and I'll cry a lot bc I love you!! <3


	10. Madam Tactician

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this week is crazy just the fact that I made it to Thursday says a lot but anyways HERE WE GO KIDS

Frederick wasted no time in telling the Nohrian visitors the barest minimum: they were the shepherds, a noble group in Ylisse dedicated to the royal family and the protection of the innocent – at least, most of them were, though some of the foreign youths were considered part of the group due to their pasts together. He was Frederick the Wary, head of the shepherds as the Exalt was not there to lead, and he would not be easy on them no matter what part of land they came from. In fact, if they did anything remotely suspicious, he made it clear that he’d take off their heads with a swing of his axe.

The winding paths they took away from the heart of the city would’ve confused and disoriented Severa if she had not been brutally trained in the location of the Ylissean palace’s most secure of defenses. There were plenty of places throughout the capitol, throughout the halidom, that the royals could flee to in dire, dangerous times. The Underground, however…

Her frown deepened as they traveled along a riverbank near the outskirts of the city. Up ahead: a waterfall, and behind it, the Underground. Only to be used in the absolute worst situations, namely if the entire palace and family was compromised…

She almost jumped when Niles’ slim profile appeared next to her. His face was sharp as always, but his deep blue eye narrowed slightly at her. His tone was softer than she thought she’d ever heard before.

“It’s not your fault. A retainer can’t be blamed for everything. Not when they’re trying their hardest. We both know I do everything when I’m at _my_ hardest~.”

She sighed, trying to ignore him, especially the last comment – but she knew, inside, he was right. She wasn’t her mom. She wasn’t perfect.

“It’s especially gruesome when your liege is a massive pain in your ass. And I do mean that both figuratively _and_ literally, of course.”

With a scowl, she shoved his face away.

Luckily, they now stood in front of the waterfall. Noire’s horse grazed nearby, though it had been removed of all equipment – as if it was some wild beast. All other horses soon followed, and at the faintest signal from Camilla, Circe appeared, settling on the ground. She would wait outside for now, it seemed.

The group of shepherds stalled as Laurent pushed through to the front, a wave of his hand creating an arc to walk through without getting soaked. This was especially important for the sake of Inigo – he had been fading in and out of consciousness the entire time, scaring Yarne near to death – but not so frightening then as when he began to cough up blood.

If they had made it to Ylisstol a day later, he would have been dead.

Upon closing the waterfall, a stony hallway was revealed. The light was excruciatingly dim, but not so dim that the wyvern at the back could not be seen.

It raised its head in a low snarl before a small girl – though she’d been marching with the rest the whole time, she was so quiet that they hadn’t noticed her – came forward, giving a rather mighty growl. Normally, Xander and Camilla especially would have rushed forward to protect the child from a dangerous wyvern, but something held them back:

Through her dark ginger braids, she had large, pointed ears.

Just like Corrin.

As if she had given the password, the reptile calmed down. Another few dizzying passages (of which only Frederick, Severa, Yarne, and the little girl seemed to constantly know which direction to take) and they slowly came upon a wider entryway. Over the sounds of the shepherds removing some of their outer armor, they could hear a gentle feminine voice echoing from further down, along with the sound of an older woman replying, voice calm.

_“They’ll be back any second, we need one of the healers – it’s Inigo, he l-looks awful, milady! Some sort of gut wound–”_

_“At ease, Noire. Frederick has already made certain that no tricks are upon us?”_

_“Y-Yes, as – as far as one can in this situation, I believe.”_

_“Allow me to see for myself.”_

Footsteps could be heard, coming closer. Severa felt as though she had been struck: Kjelle had said that _all_ of the royal family had been captured, how could–?

The woman appeared before them, arms crossed. Over simple pants and a tank top, she wore a deep, faded purple cloak. Her sharp golden-brown eyes were bright against her brown skin, which was darker than Noire’s. Slowly, her ring-riddled hands reached up and pulled her hood down, revealing dark green hair held up in practical pigtails, an ebony circlet sitting handsomely upon her head.

Her clothes suggested some sort of mage, perhaps a sorcerer, but they seemed too practical – the style was foreign to those who didn’t know it. The pants and boots were sturdier, more suited to a fighter of the blade. It was efficient, though clearly an old uniform – and it entirely contrasted the way she held herself. She stood with purpose, head tilted up almost regally as she judged the strangers among the people before her.

Severa could not disguise her shock. “M-Milady, I was under the impression that you had been captured as well. Forgive me, _please_ – for my failures upon the house Ylisse. I – I’ve let our kingdom down.”

The cloaked woman paused for a moment, Noire twirling her black hair anxiously behind her. Slowly, she sighed.

“You truly are our dear Severa. I am afraid that the dogs that have the castle in their clutches did not _want_ me. Nor did they want Stahl, despite his ties to the throne. No, they wanted only those blessed children of Naga’s favor.”

Her face went from stoic to devastatingly bitter, and her fingertips seemed to almost crackle with magical energy. “They have stolen from me my husband, my children, my sister through marriage, and finally, my nephew. I cannot dare imagine what they are going through. I shall debrief you shortly, Severa… and this motley crew of yours, should they deem trustworthy. Perhaps… we should wait for Duke Inigo to rejoin the world of consciousness, first?”

She turned sharply, shouting. “Brady, come forth! Your abilities are required _urgently_!”

A yell of surprise and the sound of running could be heard in the distance. In this moment of pause, Xander took the opportunity to voice his own thoughts.

“Forgive me, milady, for we are ignorant of this kingdom’s ways – Sir Frederick here seemed to give us the impression earlier that he was the leader of this noble group, yet you have a commanding presence that appears to override him. May I, as the head of my own family, enquire who you are?”

Briefly, Nohrians and shepherds alike worried that the lady in question would scorn him. Instead, she gave a soft laugh, turning to give the smallest of cheeky grins to Frederick.

“Giving out that fanciful idea that you’re in charge, Frederick? How kind of you to take the burden from my shoulders,” she walked toward him, resting a hand on the knight’s shoulder with a teasing look.

“Yes, yes, you’ve always been Chrom’s second-in-command. But, in all fairness, the shepherds are traditionally run by a member of the royal family. As the head of the family available – I daresay I outrank Stahl in more than one way – it is _I_ that is in charge. It is _my_ family we are trying to save, after all. Though I am glad to see your daughter’s return.”

She turned then back to Xander, a faint smile still on her face. She came closer, only a foot or two away – which noticeably caused both Frederick _and_ Severa to flinch, watching carefully – before opening her arms in a welcome gesture. As she opened her mouth to speak, Frederick stepped forward, which got him a withering glance in return. “I can speak for myself, you know.” Slowly, he stepped back.

It reminded them faintly of Severa stepping in front of Inigo to introduce them both. To ‘get back in practice’.

Now, they understood why.

“Welcome to our Underground, guests. I hear from Noire you are of across the sea? Valm then, most likely. You have come this far, I can tell that you are willing to fight for our cause, lest you’d have left Severa and Lord Inigo by now. I take it you were likely their journeying companions: hence, you are a friend of Prince Owain’s, as well?”

Her head tilted slightly, a fond, yet calculating look in her eyes. “You seem lost, as though you have been dropped into our land without any knowledge of it except your names and the names of your comrades. You remind me of my younger self. I, too, entered a conflict with barely my wits about me…

“Yet I stand before you, here, having taken back my life and having turned it into something greater. I am the Queen of Ylisse, wife to Exalted Chrom, and the current overseer of the Plegian region as it slowly recovers from wars past. When my son is of age, he will reclaim the Plegian throne, and the nation will no longer rely on Ylisse for its survival. I have high hopes that he shall raise my old nation to a new greatness… one not founded on hatred or death.”

She pulled a dusty tome from out of her cloak, a twinkle in her eye as she ran her fingers down its cover. “Years ago, in my prime, I was the tactician for the shepherds. Beside my husband we won many battles. I… still favor being a tactician over being queen, if we are being frank. Call me what you will – Madam Tactician, your Highness, Queen – if I had it my way, you’d just address me by my name,” she huffed, sending another look at Frederick in good humor, “but as politics are, especially with a retainer as anal as dearest Sir Frederick, a title should probably be attached somewhere. You are not familiar with me, not yet. Still, I suppose…”

She hummed, fingering open the tome and lighting lanterns ablaze throughout the room with the softest incantation upon her lips – Leo was unnerved by this, she clearly had a strength in magic he could only ever _dream_ of reaching – before she shut the book and replaced it in her cloak. A smirk curved her lips.

“You can call me Lady Tawney, if you like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments so I know that I'm not lame haha!! Have a wonderful week y'all!!!


	11. Watchful Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like,,, it's been forever,,, oof,,, but thank you for the continued support!!! I love all of you sooo so much!!!
> 
> Warnings for uh Tharja giving some,,, interesting imagery. also. really bad puns, forgive me, I tried.

Within moments of Tawney’s introduction, a tall man with auburn hair burst into the room, a staff clutched tightly in his hands.

“Was there some sorta skirmish on patrol–?” he started, clearly distressed before freezing in his tracks at the sight before him, a strangled noise leaving his throat. “T-They’re back!”

“Back a little less than whole, I’m afraid,” Tawney soothed him at the first sign of oncoming tears. “If you could take him down to the infirmary area, Yarne, so Brady could begin treatment? I’d say the barracks, but that probably won’t be a peaceful place to work in at the moment.”

“Why is that?” Severa couldn’t help but ask as Yarne and Brady went off down one of the tunnels. She had to quickly replace the smile on her face with her usual scowl – it had been wonderful to see Brady. Hopefully the Snark and Bark Society hadn’t completely fallen apart…

Tawney waved the question off with a small grin, shrugging her shoulders. “Gerome recently returned from an aerial patrol himself, he’s probably asleep. Something tells me that the sudden reappearance of his liege would likely give the opposite of a relaxing atmosphere for Brady to work under. I’m not sure of the extent of these wounds, but he seems worse than I believe I’ve ever seen him… in this lifetime, after all.” She gave a soft chuckle. “His reckless behavior certainly got him enough time in the medical tent during the wars with Plegia and Valm.”

“Is…” Elise rocked forward on her toes, still clutched to Xander’s side, “Is there anything I can do to help him? I’m… I’m a healer, too. I just don’t have any of my staves right now…”

“Is that so?” Tawney inquired, eyes widening slightly. “I daresay I should’ve realized that even someone so young as you has seen their fair share of battles. Especially if our three friends found you so interesting to stay with these past few months. Let me see…”

She scrutinized each of the newcomers in turn, which only caused Leo any real distress. He had known many noble figures in his lifetime, but none of them ever gave off the aura that Tawney did. No, she… reminded him, somehow, of his mother. Something about her was stern and calculating, her eyes showed evidence of plans forming in her mind. Yet…

She was not his mother. Though, perhaps, she seemed cold now, it wasn’t the coldness that followed his mother everywhere in life, even to her grave. It was a coldness brought about by pain, by loneliness, by – obviously, she was guarded because of her family’s situation. There was something different about her, that separated her from his mother: her gentleness. The fondness with which she looked at Severa’s generation – at Brady, at Noire, at Yarne. She had _humor_ , too, she was _teasing_ Severa’s father.

Still, when she looked him over with her golden-brown eyes, he stiffened. Her gaze made him feel naked, as if she could size him up instantly. Could she?

“I’ve made a decision.”

All eyes in the room snapped to her as she stepped back, beckoning Noire closer. Her smile, at least, seemed to ease the worry on the girl’s face.

“Be a dear and fetch your mother and Henry for me, shall you? They’re off with Miriel looking at our plans for tomorrow. It will only take a moment, I need not keep them from their plans for long.”

Noire nodded hastily, running off much like Yarne and Brady had. Wherever the people in question were located, it was clearly closer by than where Brady had been – they arrived within only another minute, the snowy haired man looking both curious and amicable, the raven haired woman looking uneasy – her look only darkened as she looked over the Nohrians.

Those Nohrians in question felt as nervous as Noire looked – not due to the appearances of these mages, their tomes held tightly in their thin, dark fingers, but because of Severa’s reaction: her shoulders squared slightly, a look of anxiety clear behind her retainer mask of indifference.

Everything about these two felt unnerving. From their dark clothing to the miasma they seemed to give off… something about them resonated deeply, as if they were familiar.

Of course. Sorcerers and the practice of dark magic. A trademark their kingdom was known for as well as disliked for.

“What sinister deeds do you need of us, milady?” the woman hissed, coming up behind Tawney to clutch at her arm. If Tawney cared, she did not show it. Instead, she beckoned for Noire and the man, Henry, they assumed, to come up as well. At the word ‘sinister’, Henry’s eerie smile only seemed to grow more malevolent.

“There is nothing sinister I wish for you to perform, dear Tharja,” Tharja’s eyes narrowed in return, “I just require the people I need for a situation like this. Severa and Lord Inigo have returned, and with them they have brought five from somewhere – from Valm, I believe. Now, given our circumstances, we must take every precaution when inviting new members to our ranks.”

“I shall curse them if you so wish,” Tharja murmured, still clinging to the queen, “if they say even one word out of line, maggots shall begin to fester in their eye-sockets until–”

“Enough, Tharja,” Tawney warned, “I just want people I trust to do the job well to keep an eye on each of them.

“You, little one,” she called, voice soft as she glanced to Elise, “you say you are a healer, and I certainly sense that you have the magic to back it up. It would be an honor if you were to help out. Dearest Lissa has been taken from us, and that alone has also troubled Lady Maribelle’s heart to the point she can think of nothing else. Libra is away in Rosanne for the time being – and while many of our mages have tried to double as healers, it does not come quite so naturally to them. You, especially, seem to be the least likely threat of your party… as such, I have no qualms about having you being watched by Brady. He can give you a staff and school you in Ylissean herbology.

“Noire,” she added, causing the archer to jump slightly, “I’d like you to watch our other lady here, yes?”

She gestured to Camilla, who hesitated before remaining neutral. “Between her axe and her armor, she’s clearly a wyvern rider of sorts. I do believe I heard another beast land outside the waterfall? Noire, you need not do more than keep an eye on her. You are our foremost archer. All I ask of you is that if you see suspicious activity,” Tawney paused slightly, smile fading to seriousness, “you will shoot her down.”

Camilla laughed, hiding any anxiety with a simpering look, “I daresay I hope it will not come to that! Noire, darling, you seem like an adorably strong young girl. I’m sure we’ll get along _fine_.”

The look on Tharja’s face only grew more furious. “Which one requires the suffering of _my_ attention?” she snarled, glancing at the remaining men. Tawney sighed at her foul mood.

“Him,” she put simply, pointing to Niles, “the plain one. While I doubt the story of some far-off Valmese family as much as any other here, it is _he_ that causes me to hold even more consideration.”

The green-haired tactician sent him a quizzical look. “The way you hold yourself, your garb – you seem like some common street rat. If you had a sword at your hip and not a bow, I’d assume you were a thief, yet it seems you’re more than that. You’re a slippery dastard, I can tell that much. Under different circumstances I’d have Gaius keep his eyes on you, he’d know your tricks. As it is, he is slinking around the castle for information.

“If I cannot have him watch you, no one else would be able to make sure you were honest and up to no tricks. Hence, Tharja.”

What could have been a sweet smile on Tawney’s face instead seemed foreboding and… was it piteous? “You will never be out of her sight, I assure you, no matter what you may try to pull. Though, I must request that no violence is given unless you have _proof_ of misconduct,” she glared lightly at the raven-haired mage, “I wish not to have a possible ally dead at your leisure.”

The look Severa gave Niles in that moment was a look he had received often in childhood: the look of a bystander already attending the funeral that was sure to come to him. Back then, he had resented it. Now… he was intrigued.

He’d make himself worth Tharja’s time.

“Likewise, Henry, your skill is needed to contain the other threat,” Tawney concluded, nodding to Xander.

“That… sword you carry,” the words quieted, eyes flickering over Siegfried’s hilt, “something about it… is unnerving. I can feel the dark magic imbued in it… yet you have little talent for that art in itself. You hold yourself as the leader of your group, there is a sense of dignity that I rarely see in people… you hold it close to your heart.

“My brain has let me know you are dangerously skilled, that I ought to keep you a safe distance from myself. Yet…” her smile returned, arms folding as a fond look came over her face, “my first true memory has a prince look at me with the same thoughts, with the knowledge that this is a possible enemy, that a wrong move could lead to death. Yet… like he once did in regard to me… I find myself trusting you. Every bone in my body screams that you have no ill thoughts toward us, that you could probably be trusted with my life. But I… I know that Chrom is still too trusting. I also know that I trust Henry much more than I trust you. Perhaps he will not stalk you mercilessly like Tharja would, but… the _many_ eyes that will watch you from now on will hopefully calm my nerves.”

Her hand patted Henry’s shoulder lightly, and the man’s smile had returned to a simple pleasantness instead of its previous cruelty. “An honest man has no need for a constant threat of a hex. Perhaps in time you may even find a friend in Henry, much like I did.”

She seemed to end her thoughts there, leaving a mild stir of discomfort amongst those in her company, especially the keeper of Brynhildr.

“What… about me?”

Leo wasn’t expecting for the Ylissean queen to chuckle in response, eyes glimmering.

“You’re young, and you seem more interested than suspicious about what’s going on,” Tawney mused, pressing a finger to her chin, “That tome you carry, it’s so _rich_ with magic. And I see you have a scabbard, but no sword. Given your armor, you’re a dark knight. I would like to watch you _myself_. You seem like a bright kid, it’d be interesting to see your magic and how I can adapt it for our cause.”

The way Frederick stiffened so dramatically was almost comical, the look on his face showing immediate protest – but it was Severa that beat him to it.

“M-Milady Tawney, surely you must be joking – you shouldn’t burden yourself with watching Leo, I am sure others are capable, you should focus on your strategies – _I_ can keep an eye on him, I _know_ him and it wouldn’t be any trouble–”

Tawney’s lips pursed and she shook her head. “No, Severa, I’ve made up my mind. You and Frederick have a duty do this kingdom, first: by that, I mean, it will be your responsibility to, when we manage to free them, take care of and watch out for the rest of the royal family. We _still_ don’t know what these dastards want from us! Gaius said they’d tell us tomorrow – and he said that the Mad Witch will be showing off the royals to the people of the capitol tomorrow, as they don’t yet know that Prince Owain has been apprehended. Any opportunity to show off their prisoners is an opportunity for us to _save_ them!

“Gods, if we’re lucky, all we’d need to do is give them a couple of swords, if they can wield weapons half the job is done…” she finished, a look of anxiety and stress overcoming her momentarily.

Frederick relaxed, sympathy washing across his face. His hand rested briefly on her shoulder, voice much gentler than they had heard it before:

“Part of such a responsibility is to also watch after _you_. It would do no good for you to fall in these dark times as well. You _know_ milord wishes for your safety, even now. If he is conscious, he worries for you, if he is not, he dreams of you.”

In turn, Tawney grabbed his hand, eyes shining with appreciation. “I… I know. We are two halves of the same whole which you have sworn to protect. But something tells me,” she added with a pointed look to the foreigners, “that a mere _boy_ will not best me so easily. Especially if he wants his companions to keep their heads.”

“I’m sure they’ll be keeping their heads… whether or not they’ll part with all their flesh or fluids is another question, if any of them lay so much as a soon to be _severed_ finger on you, precious Tawney…”

“Yeah, what Tharja said! I _love_ surrounding myself with murder! Whether it’s a murder of crows or the murder of foes, it doesn’t matter to me~!”

“Enough, you two!” the tactician warned with a somewhat friendly huff, “Let me rejoin you and Miriel in our plans. Severa – I know not how long you’ve been journeying back here, but I am sure you could all rest. Stahl and Donnel are in the food stores, if any of you wish for food I am certain Vaike and Kjelle would be happy to help you locate them. If you wish to rest, go down the darkest tunnel and you will find the barracks of the Underground, designed with the intent to house soldiers defending the royal family… There aren’t dozens of beds, but I believe the only ones occupied at the moment belong to Gerome, Ricken, and Nowi. Frederick, you are relieved of duty for tonight – please, sleep. Sully and Gregor are plenty enough to guard my chambers.”

She turned, cloak ruffled about her, and sent a brief glance to the path Yarne and Brady had disappeared down early with Inigo, “Brady will likely need the night to heal and monitor… Laurent, if you don’t mind, relieve Yarne and inform Brady that should be need to sleep, his mother _should_ be in the weaponry. Come morning, hopefully Lord Inigo shall be conscious and preferably lucid, and I will continue to debrief you all on our situation.”

With that, she started walking away with Tharja, Henry following until Frederick grabbed his wrist.

The great knight answered the questioning hum Henry gave at the touch, “If you don’t mind, may I implore you to have some of your… _companions_ keep an eye on both Lady Tawney as well as the infirmary and our… guests?”

Severa was already beginning to drag them away, but Xander still felt himself involuntarily shiver as the white-haired mage leaned his head over his shoulder, staring directly at him with narrow slits for eyes, a smile still on his face as he giggled.

“Nyaha~! Oh, _Freddy_ , I didn’t know you were so _deathly_ concerned! You needn’t ask – _really_! After all, they’ve been watching since you all ran into each other near the palace~! Yarne goes _nowhere_ that my crows don’t follow. I’m sure they won’t mind watching a couple more tonight. Right, Udolpho?”

Sure enough, perched upon a lamp was a beady-eyed, sleek crow. At Henry’s question, it gave a loud _caw_ , flying over to rest upon his shoulder. He ran a finger gently down its head and back, turning slightly to look up at Frederick.

“I can assure you that Tawney will be in our very capable _claws_.”

Without another word, he, too, followed his fellow native Plegians into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several reasons for why certain people are watching certain people, though some aren't so obvious that I actually wrote them in text. For example: Henry could indeed become a friend of Xander's, due to is similarities to Peri.


	12. It's Time to Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, holding up a mic and pointing out over the crowd: THIS ONE'S FOR ALL YOU GERNIGO LOVERS OUT THERE!
> 
> This chapter talks about death a lot, so if you don't like that, be careful! Also, for any of you that may have been concerned about the mentions of OCs in this story - they'll be brought to light here. I hope you guys enjoy!!! Next time you receive a chapter I'll be done with finals and heading home, if not home already!!!
> 
> Also! Ah, I almost forgot - Minnie is not Minerva! Minnie is a wyvern that the present Gerome was given as his Minerva disappeared alongside him!

Inigo was aware of a few things when he first woke up: He felt well rested, better than he had in _quite_ a while. There was a crow that had seemed to nest at the foot of his bed. That in itself was enough to make him want to question Severa as to what was happening, but he realized at the last second that yes, while Severa _was_ here, she was not the only one in his company.

No, there were many others that he could make out, their forms lit faintly by dying candles.

Laurent, his glasses slipping down his nose as his head dipped into a book in his hand, though he was quite asleep.

Nah, curled into a small ball as she breathed deeply in slumber, head resting on a stack of books next to Laurent.

And there was Yarne, languidly stretched out in beast form, providing a clearly much-desired pillow to Noire and Brady, who were nestled closely together.

Further away, in the corner of the room, he could make out Severa. Her long hair was down, for once, and she seemed peaceful as she slept, head in the lap of Kjelle. Kjelle had fallen asleep sitting up, and she was unusually devoid of her armor, her hand showing tenderness from where it rested closely to Severa’s.

His gaze drifted slowly to his left, where he felt pressure against the side of the bed. Even in the dim lighting, the blond hair was recognizable, and before he could stop himself he felt his fingers gently brushing against the peaceful face of the sleeping Gerome. Instinctively, pale fingers reached up to his dark ones, grasping his hand in a firm, yet delicate, gesture as the wyvern rider’s eyes blinked open.

As quickly as Gerome had wakened, he was even closer. His brows were furrowed in what Inigo deemed to be concern, but he couldn’t help but give a soft chuckle.

He had no idea how long it had been for Gerome, but he had missed his stoic flier for a _decade_.

A tough hand gently caressed his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, relishing it as though he’d never see his love again. “Why… why are you crying? Are – Are you in pain? Ought I wake Brady?”

The flurry of whispered questions was too much for the mercenary. His arm wrapped about his neck, pulling the flustered man closer.

He pressed soft kisses just under the dark brown eyes. “I _missed_ you. How… How long have I been… away? I tried not to dwell on time…”

Those callused fingers moved from his cheek to become tangled in his hair. “Only two months, but they were the _longest_ months of my life. Every day that passed without you was a travesty.”

“I’m so sorry, my love. Can I make it up to you, somehow?”

Gerome scowled, a light growl escaping his lips as he got a fraction nearer, “You’re an idiot.”

The remains of the affectionate insult died when Inigo’s mouth met his, the dancer’s free hand curling into the soft blond hair.

“How sweet.”

Inigo immediately spooked, blushing bright red as Gerome, too, flushed and snapped his head toward the entryway.

Tawney stood there, a faint smile on her face as the flier dipped his head in embarrassment before turning to look around the room. Her grin only grew fonder at the sight.

“H-How did you decide to come here?” Gerome recovered, voice still soft in the effort to not wake his friends.

Only then did Inigo notice the dark bird perched on her shoulder, as well as the absence of the crow on his bed.

Tawney gestured as it flew back to the bed, cocking its head toward the queen. “Udolpho was tasked by Henry to remain in here until you awoke, Inigo,” she laughed silently, the barest trace of a chuckle flashing across her face as she dropped all formalities, “I had assumed that when everyone went to retire last night, they went to the barracks as is usual. It appears not.”

She made her way to the bed, sitting beside the black bird and exposing the doorway’s soft light: from which they could see Xander and Camilla standing there, the other three no doubt behind them.

“Unfortunately, it’s time to start the day,” she added, no longer trying to stay quiet. Yarne’s massive ears twitched at the sound. “As much as I’d hate to break up this little reunion, I need to debrief you and your friends as well as dear Severa on the situation at hand. Gerome, if you could wake the others and give them tasks? I need you in particular to try and learn about our newest wyvern. Her master said that her name was Circe. Please make sure that she and Minnie get along.”

Gerome nodded in return, standing to rouse the others. Though he did not wear his mask, not since his rebirth, his face appeared to slip back into a quiet concealment of his feelings.

It was an easy enough task to get Laurent, Kjelle, Severa, and Nah up and moving – waking up Noire and Yarne was always trouble, and like usual both startled awake, and waking Brady…

Typically it was as easy as anyone else, but this time it led to a very tear-stained hug between him and Inigo.

Not that anyone minded.

Slowly, finally, the infirmary’s guests trickled out and the Nohrians were able to come in. Severa, like Tawney, chose to sit on the bed, while the rest stood.

(Xander had to restrain Elise from tackling Inigo like Brady had done, but this did not stop him from letting out a gentle, relieved smile as well.)

“I am so happy for you to have returned,” Tawney started with a kind smile, “Both of you. I can’t begin to express the tragedy that it was to lose you. Morgan – he was so sad when his favorite cousin left. And Lucina… she cried, that night. Not that she let anyone know. Even so, we… we knew.”

Severa winced at that, and Inigo’s face fell. Slowly, he glanced from the tactician-turned-queen and his friend.

“Where… where are they? They weren’t here – neither was Cynthia. I…”

His voice died then, a look of fear shining in his eyes as his breath hitched. “I d-didn’t see – where are – Mother and Father–”

A deep sigh with remorseful eyes. “The story that transpired in your months of absence… is grim, Duke Inigo.”

“D-Don’t call me _that_ ,” he spat in return, tone desperate, “Nobles just call – call me _Lord_ , and even that feels excessive – I’m _not_ Duke, I’m _not_ the duke of Rosanne, I’d only be if no one else could fill the title and–”

He froze, frenzied tears beginning to fill his rosy brown eyes. He did not register Severa’s hand holding his tightly, the looks of pity on the majority of his Nohrian friends – not Niles, no, it was more of a knowing glance, and not Xander. Never Xander. Xander understood _too_ well the pain of the deaths of parents that he clearly had _loved_ –

No, he had to think of anything but that, his parents weren’t dead, they couldn’t be–

The stark image of his parents’ corpses bled through his mind like a most treacherous poison.

He didn’t realize he was shaking until he felt the calm hand of Tawney rest on his shoulder, her face wrinkled with concern and grief.

“Stop, friend. Thinking of the past will only make it worse.”

How could he _not_?

Seeing a deep bitterness overtake the mercenary, Tawney decided to continue.

“I’m… sorry. You know that I am very fond of your parents. I fought three wars by their sides. I should start off with the situation at hand, but… I owe you this.

“Duke Virion is missing in action and presumed dead,” Tawney confirmed, clasping her hands in her lap. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a familiar way, a look she usually wore when planning the next battle ahead of them. “The enemies we are facing now know that Ylisse needs allies to succeed against their vile plot. Indeed, the key is Valm – I shall explain how that is later on.

“We knew that Rosanne would immediately aid our cause, so we had Libra deliver the message of our circumstances. This did not… end well. Some dastards slipped into the manor, there was an assassination attempt and – and come morning, Virion was – was g-gone. All of the assassins were captured, no outsider remained, but – but there was no trace of him _anywhere_. We have not heard from him in nearly a _month_.”

Her voice broke, then, and Udolpho the crow tugged at her cloak’s sleeve.

“His disappearance – it has taken a toll on Duchess Olivia. Olivia, she – she lost her spirit… between both you and your father disappearing without a trace, having no idea whether or not either of you were alive or dead… she was so depressed, it was hard to see her as she was… She’s very ill, Inigo, but she’s not dead. Not _yet_. Libra and Cherche have been trying their damnedest to better her, but…”

“There is no staff that can remedy an illness. Not like this. They’ve tried countless herbs, concoctions… but it’s as though she’s entirely given up. She’s lost the will to live, Inigo. There are no herbs that can cure a broken heart.

“She hasn’t gotten out of bed in a fortnight,” she explained, trying to ignore the pained look on Inigo’s face, “Duke Virion is dead, and his lady will follow soon enough. Rosanne _can’t_ give any help to Ylisse without permission from the duchy’s head – a dead man can’t send his men into danger, and a dancer who lives only to weep and sleep can give no supplies for help. Olivia is too weak to focus on writing as it is–”

“I’m the acting Duke of Rosanne.” Inigo’s voice was frighteningly soft, a blank look shielding any emotions. “Father is dead. Mother, nearly so. In such a circumstance… _I_ am the duchy’s head. Then my word–”

“Yes,” Tawney breathed, a solemn nod responding to his unfinished statement. “If you were to sign a letter to give to give aid to Ylisse… seal the letter with the mark of your signet ring… your word is the law of Rosanne, Duke Inigo. I wish it had come about in better circumstances. When we are done here, if you feel so kind, I will have you pen a message to your people. Gerome can take it – he is our messenger for the Valmese continent. Do not lose _hope_ Inigo. There are many times in the past where all seemed for naught. If your duchy receives word that you live, that you’ve _returned_ …”

A sharp determination colored his face as he lifted his gaze from the bed to the brown eyes of the tactician.

“Mother.”

He did not need to say more. It was understood instantly. If he managed to get word to Olivia that he was _back_ , that he was _alive_ …

He steeled his will. He would not become an orphan yet. Not again.

“It is the best we can hope for,” Tawney agreed, her smile reappearing before fading as quickly. “There are other matters to discuss, however. They are… dare I say, even worse. You have not seen Lucina and Morgan because – b-because they – they aren’t _here_.”

Severa couldn’t stand the idea of watching any of the royal family cry. They were all too _strong_ , they _couldn’t_ breakdown… she squeezed Inigo’s hand, a sympathetic look to the green-haired mage.

“They’re with Owain. All of them… Lucina, Morgan, Lady Lissa, the _Exalt_ … gawds, Inigo, they’re _all_ being held against their will in the palace.”

“Yes,” Tawney murmured, “the Mad Witch infiltrated our palace… how? I do not know… Plegia has always housed the most potent of magical forces.

“I see that perturbed look on your face. No, you are not imagining things: she is _indeed_ of relation to the damned Mad King Gangrel. How close, it is not known, but she seems to share a lot of ambition with the devil. Whatever this cousin of his wants, I am _certain_ it has to do with the rule of Plegia. We were told that she would crow over her victory today, that she would explain her desires now that she has all of the prisoners she wanted.

“Stahl and I,” a bitter laugh sounded from her throat at the mere mention, “we’re put on lockdown. I know not why – it’s clear that they do not want us. If they did, they could have attempted to get us before. They got Prince _Owain_. Surely that task must have been harder…”

The queen’s demeanor changed slightly in that moment. To what, they could not tell. The look in her eyes gave enough evidence to try and form a conclusion as to what was in her mind, but…

It was no use. If Tawney truly was suspicious about where they had been all this time, she would find out.

“You asked about Cynthia, too. By extension, I must explain why Cordelia is absent,” she added, a sideways glance given to Severa, “these forces… they have a severe lack when it comes to archers. The Mad Witch is clearly terrified of an aerial raid for this reason. Every Pegasus Knight and advanced classes, Falcon Knights and Dark Fliers… they’re locked in the dungeons. Cordelia, Sumia, Cynthia, and all of the new girls they’ve taken in… we’ve seen nothing of them, and only Gaius’ word has told us that they are safe. _That_ is why we need Valm.

“Valm has Wyvern Valley!” she explained, “Minerva and Minnie are both charming, of course, and this new one, Circe, will be of immense use, but – we need more than _that_! Yet Rosanne cannot pass aid until you give your word, Inigo, and when it comes to Chon’sin and the rest of the continent… I am afraid foul play is about. Say’ri is a benevolent queen, she’d have no reason not to help us – but I have suspicions that our messengers meet their deaths before they step foot on Valmese soil.”

“It shall be done… I swear it.” His solemn nod spoke lengths more than what he actually said.

A deep sigh escaped the veteran tactician. “Very well. We can send word to the Khans once their men arrive. Their two eldest children will be leading the rest – I am sure that they will be happy to see you both.”

“What – Farys and Masimio?” Severa gaped, “Farys is one of the best warriors of Ferox, and Masimio – _gawds_ , he’s what, twenty?”

Tawney snorted. “Just be glad that the twins aren’t coming. Gods know that they’re only thirteen, but they’re just as fierce as the rest of that family. If only they’d gotten here earlier…

“As I said before, the Shepherds will be in the city square today when the Mad Witch gloats over her victories. The mages and I have prepared some concealment spells for my use, as well as Stahl’s. The rest of us will be wearing thick cloaks – I’m sure we won’t be incredibly close to the display. Everyone is to be armed minimally excepting my retainers, Stahl, and myself – Mad Witch as she is, we cannot be sure of her predictability.

“I do not want large groups – everyone has been informed of their locations already. Severa, you are to stick close to me and your father. Inigo, I wish you to stay near Noire, Nah, and Laurent – ordinarily I’d put you close to Gerome, but the sooner he sends word to Rosanne, the sooner that more aid can come.”

“Understandable,” Inigo agreed, eyes shooting a furtive glance to the five that had not yet been addressed. Tawney, sharp as she was, did not miss the look.

“Do not concern yourself with our newest companions. I have spoken with them this morning, learned what I can of their abilities – Xander and Elise are to be stationed with Miriel and Henry, Camilla and Niles shall be with Tharja and Nowi, and Leo is to be near Kjelle, Gregor, and Yarne. We want this event to go smoothly, no bumps so long as we can help it – though, I’ll say now… if it starts to go to shit,” an eyebrow raised slightly at her own remark, knowing look given to the two, “then may as well cause as much trouble as we can without endangering the hostages.”

“Causing as much mayhem as we can without endangering people… sounds like a typical plan for the shepherds,” Inigo chuckled softly. “Hopefully no ocean shall be set on fire?”

A tiny grin tugged at the corners of Tawney’s mouth. “Hopefully. If it comes to that point, I’m afraid of what this spat will have become.”

The queen gathered herself, standing from the bed and brushing down her robes. “We will be leaving for our stations in the square as soon as everyone is ready. Severa, I entrust you to help Inigo about the Underground for today.”

“Of course, milady,” Severa dipped her head, giving a breath of relief as the woman left the room alone to the world travelers.

Elise could no longer contain herself. With the threat of raising Tawney’s levels of suspicion out of the way, the pigtailed princess beamed and launched herself onto the bed.

“I’m so happy you’re okay!”

“All of us are glad to see you recover,” Xander added, reserved smile a comfort to the mercenary. “I will admit, however, that all of these companions of yours… they’re certainly eccentric, at the least.”

“And here I thought they’d seem relatively normal when compared to Niles?” Inigo quipped, earning an eyeroll from the retainer in question.

“You’re putting the attention on me?” Niles smirked, eye widening slightly, “High praise, considering all of these fantastic foreign faces!

“I must add,” Niles purred, sliding closer, “your Gerome certainly _is_ a fine cut of meat~. Just a _glance_ of him caring for you and all I want is to _eat him up_. He clearly knows how to make a man feel so good it’s almost _bad_.”

Inigo sat right up at that, hiding his crimson face in his hands. “S-Stop that, you can’t – you know _exactly_ what you’re doing, you’re _terrible_ –”

“Guilty as charged. Now get your pretty little ass up, _Lord_ , I’d hate to see the queen’s family drawn and quartered because we weren’t there to do damage control, hmm?”

Bristling, the lone brunette gave a sharp hiss. “Shut up! They aren’t – there’s _no way_ that they’d just kill them – _gawds_ , Niles, you’re awful!”

“Stand down, friend, I am sure that the captors wouldn’t kill an entire family of royals without some sort of higher leverage – whatever they may want is clearly great in magnitude enough to warrant using five royals for ransom.”

Although Inigo was sure that he was supposed to find relief in Xander’s affirmation, a dark pit started to consume his guts. Images flashed before his eyes–

Morgan screaming for his parents.

Owain being reckless and trying to protect his cousins.

Lucina… _gods_ , Lucina… she would keep her mouth shut, never give the victory to her captors of hearing her cry in pain. She’d do everything in her power to protect her little brother, to protect her cousin, to protect her aunt, to protect–

If they tried to do _anything_ to Chrom, Lucina would…

Severa took Inigo’s hand as he stood up, face pale. She knew without asking what exactly was tormenting him.

Still, she didn’t think that today would go _too_ badly… after all, she and Frederick would make sure that Tawney and Stahl wouldn’t be compromised, and with all of the available shepherds in the crowd… No, no one would die today.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave reviews if you can!!! Ahhh now we're getting into the meat of the story. Hope y'all are ready for some angst!


	13. The Chosen Villain Arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO sorry it's out later than usual but the good news is!!! I'm home for the summer! That means I'mma have more time to write!!!  
> ,,,bad news is that this is the last fully written chapter I have! I've been very busy lately, oof... but the other chapter is a third of the way done! Basically: if I finish it, it'll be put up Thursday! If I don't - it'll be put up whenever it is!
> 
> Get ready y'all bc,,, it's getting heavy now. The villain and her motives is about to be thrown right into the spotlight!
> 
> Warnings: political shenanigans that i'm bsing as I go, neglect, blood...

Clouds wafted through the sky at a lazy pace. Ordinarily, the sight of a large mass of people clustered in the city square of Ylisstol would be brushed off as the exalt making an appearance, or perhaps street performers. There would be shrieks of joy from children running about, playing in the streets. Clashing odors of varying foods from vendors lining the buildings would lead wandering visitors to the area.

There were no children having fun. No tourists were sampling local dishes.

On the podium that was usually occupied by the royal guard or musicians, especially during a festival, a bunch of Plegian mages carefully protected a figure in the back. Her gaze was haughty, her dark crimson hair spilling down over her shoulders and violet cloak as she glimpsed the crowding citizens. People were milling about, anxious glances staring up to her and her men, knowing that if anyone was to challenge the Plegians, their beloved royals would likely be killed.

Ordinarily, the enchantress would’ve turned up her nose at the groveling, cowardly public.

Not this time.

This time, she could feel the tug and pull of tantalizingly sweet magic. Like a drug, the sense soothed her body – it was terribly potent, and she knew that only one person in their current world could wield so much power:

The fell dragon’s vessel, now only a shell and free of Grima, the very queen of Ylisse and current ruling hand of Plegia: Tawney, daughter of past-king Validar, now blood-traitor and wife of the Exalted Chrom, Naga’s chosen.

King Chrom, who killed her dearest cousin.

The dark enchantress’ lips curved into a malicious smile.

Yes, Tawney was clearly here, and she was concealing herself. She expected no less of the brilliant woman. No doubt there was a pack of the Shepherds, the obnoxious and elite royal army of sorts that the Exalt had made notorious, scattered throughout the onlooking mob.

It mattered not; Tawney was here. So long as she had her guest of honor, the show would go on.

Carefully, dangerously, the townspeople and hidden Shepherds watched her stalk forward. The foreigners had just as much an idea of who she was as the natives. One thing in particular alarmed them: everything about the way she moved, the way her eyes shone with the glee of something malevolent, the careful precision and yet utter ruthlessness in her gaze…

It seemed disturbingly similar to how a very dear someone fought to protect those she cared for. Niles, especially, was all too aware of the purple-haired princess standing beside him.

But there was no love in this woman’s heart, not for people, not for her homeland, not for the god she worshiped. There was only greed, a pure blackness that was empowered by shrewd cunning.

She slammed the gaudy staff she held down – though it was clear that its purpose was more that of a scepter than a healing tool. Any magic user could take only one look at her to tell she was no cleric of sorts. No, this was a sorcerer in all her glory, and dark magic reeked in the surrounding air.

The simple, yet loud, noise sent the crowd to silence, whispers dying as she smirked down at them.

“Greetings,” she called, voice rather pretty despite its tone of dripping condescension. “You all know me as the Mad Witch – a fitting title, I suppose, though when I find the dastards that started such a title I’ll have their heads. I take it someone let slip my lineage…?”

The corners of her lips quirked slightly, and those stationed by the Plegians of the Shepherds noticed their companions’ sudden tight postures. They had indeed only been rumors, supplied by traces of info from Gaius whenever it turned up in conversations in the castle, but none of them truly _wanted_ a confirmation of who this woman truly was.

There was no going back, it seemed. This Mad Witch truly was Kasdeya, a lady long-suffering in the shadows of her late cousin, the Mad King Gangrel.

“I’ll make this short. There’s no need to be wasting time… no, wasting time is certainly not good when precious nobles are at stake, correct? I know you’re here, Lady Tawney. You want to know what I wish for. It’s not such a hard request.

“I simply require _you_ ,” the Mad Witch finished, her easygoing smile contrasting her sinister tone, “after all, I can’t seize the throne of Plegia without any thought. I’d be overthrown in an instant. Civil war would reign. Too much time wasted, in my tastes. Much of our country is perfectly content with Prince Morgan’s eventual throne, but I…” her eyes narrowed, a sneer curling upon her face, “am _not_.”

Another smack of the staff against hard wood made some of the watchers flinch. “We are a nation founded on Grimleal beliefs! Whether or not we as a people wanted His return to us, to cleanse this loathsome world in His flames, we still follow Grimleal principles and respect Him as our primary deity! To let a child with the brand of _Naga_ take the throne?” she spat, a hiss clipping her words short, “Is absolute _blaspheme_!”

Her dark violet gaze flitted over the crowd, searching for the one person she addressed. “Your son’s rule can be contested, that is true. Your bloodline itself, however… cannot. Daughter of King Validar, and in a time when the Plegian armies are still recovering and wary, even after the past decades of relief… Too many peasants and nobles alike accept you.”

The Mad Witch’s bitterness crept from her tone to her eyes, a look that put the soldiers in the mass on edge: an emotional villain with empathetic reasoning was all the harder to outwit. “I am resigned to the knowledge that I shall never sit on the Plegian throne. Thus, you have but only one thing you can give me. Accept my price and I will let my prisoners go free. All you must do…

“Queen Tawney, simply wed my _son_ and your family shall be released.”

The people of Ylisstol were in uproar in seconds. Vulgar cries against the Mad Witch were hurled, as were yelling desperations as to how their queen would never turn her back on Ylisse.

A comment from a young baker was the only that got the sorcerer’s attention, eyes flashing as she finally got the jibe she wanted:

“Your threats are _empty_! You say you can end the royal line, but you do not have all of those represented by the brand! You’ve not captured the Exalt’s nephew!”

She held the onlookers in suspense for a few moments, a ripple going through the citizens as more and more shouted their hopes in Prince Owain. Then, she snapped her long, thin fingers, and a surge of guards behind her started making their way forward.

“Milady, you’ve not said any word of a decision. You wish not to wed my son for the safety of your family? You hold your tongue for far too long, your highness. Very well. If you wish not to speak up, we’ll make you cry out.”

The first of the dark guards threw a figure forward, the shock of his blue hair against pale skin all too recognizable. Dressed in extremely formal attire, _sardonically_ so, Tawney fumed, was Chrom. It was a consolation, however, that she could tell that while he may not have been properly fed or cared for in captivity, no major wounds riddled his flesh.

Hope soared higher in the hearts of the Shepherds upon seeing his eyes: the dark pools of blue shined with anger, determination, and indignance all at once.

No matter what the Mad Witch may have been doing to their king, his spirit was clearly unbroken.

Less could be said of the woman thrown down beside him, her long blonde hair tangled and loose with no adornments. Her eyes, instead, reflected terror, as did the gasp that escaped her lips at the rough landing. Lissa, too, was dressed extravagantly, adorned in a dress that would have been more appropriate for a ball than anything else.

Bruises littered her usually cream-colored face, explaining the fear in her eyes. Perhaps they weren’t hurting Chrom, perhaps they deigned his majesty too valuable for a beating, but one look at the Ylissean princess made it clear that the price on her head may not be enough to keep her from damage.

Tawney could not stop herself from taking Stahl’s hand at the sight of their spouses. She felt his fingers tense before tightening around her own, a shaken but sturdy promise to each other. Still, the knowledge that he was beside her in this pain did not stop the vapid hiss from coming out under her breath, poisonously soft, meant only for the three nearby.

“There are no physical restraints that I can see on Chrom and Lissa, and I sense none bound by magic. That, combined with their over-the-top regal outfitting? The Witch is _mocking_ us, mocking our _people_ as well! Dangling the Exalt in front of them as if everything was normal – and showing us that they don’t need chains to bind them!”

Another squeeze from Stahl, a quiet huff from Severa, and a hand on her shoulder from Frederick.

Regardless, the solidarity her companions shared with her could not have prepared them for the next moment.

Multiple men shoved Lucina down on the Mad Witch’s other side, and she _was_ chained at her ankles and wrists despite the similar lavish gown. Blood bubbled from a split lip and bruises were evident not only on her face, but collar bone and shoulders. Though her skin was quite darker than Lissa’s due to her Plegian blood, her contusions were just as easily seen. Tawney’s eyes flared and Frederick shot a warning glare to his daughter to keep her from swearing – it was obvious, now, how exactly Chrom and Lissa were being bound.

Despite her harsh fall, Lucina made no noise of complaint. No, her lips were drawn tight, and her eyes flashed dangerously. Perhaps there was more than one reason as to why she was restrained and not her father nor aunt. There was one thing Tawney and Chrom had both agreed upon, watching their daughter grow up…

As tempered and patient Lucina had been when she travelled to the past to stop Grima, her second-time around’s security seemed to have instilled a vibrant impulsiveness and her determination had increased threefold.

(Tawney chose to blame it on more exposure to Chrom as she got older. Naga knew that he wasn’t always the best role model.)

Now, Tawney could only pray that Lucina hadn’t been making matters worse for herself by acting out.

Morgan was quick to follow, and while his ankles weren’t chained, his wrists were. This wasn’t surprising at all, given that he possessed a great amount of magical talent. It was well known that while Ylissean mages did not cause _too_ much destruction while in mass distress or uncontrollable emotion, (though when Miriel finally snapped under the chaos of the Shepherds she _did_ set a tent on fire by accident, so they weren’t so sure of this standard anymore,) _Plegian_ mages were much worse, especially those that practiced dark magic.

(The Shepherds had learned this the hard way while travelling with Tawney, Henry, and Tharja. It appeared their resident Plegian mages were much more emotionally volatile as well, which certainly didn’t help anything.)

Morgan had shown great interest in dark magic as well as the more general wind, fire, and thunder tomes. Chains to keep him from flailing was an _obvious_ choice to be made. Perhaps he did not have any spells at his disposal, but his natural magic abilities were incredibly potent.

Anyone who knew of Tawney’s skill would have taken similar precautions with her precious son.

Knowing this, Frederick tightened his hand on the queen’s shoulder as the temperature of the air around them increased by a few degrees. They had seen restraining Morgan coming.

They had not foreseen the bruises that littered his body, and his awkward movements that screamed of more abuse hidden below. Morgan wasn’t rash like his father, like Lucina. He was patient and calm, trying to figure out a solid plan with minimal casualties. He wouldn’t do anything to bring about the wrath of the guards.

 _They were deliberately harming him_.

Even with the binds, Lucina instinctively reached for her younger brother, moving her arms over his head in a protective hold.

The separation of Chrom and Lissa from Lucina and Morgan gave Tawney a very bad feeling. The possibility of them keeping the older generation away from the younger even _within_ the castle walls was proven true when the last of Naga’s branded was thrown none too delicately down next to his cousins. He, too, was covered in dark bruises and, like Lucina, had blood smeared on his face from some cut.

The Nohrians did not have much time to process the image of a brunet Owain in royal garb before a horrible screech burst from Lissa’s throat.

It started too quickly and ended just as swift. The blonde healer darted to the prince at first sight of him, her cry a vocalization of terrible pain and grief. Owain had looked entirely absent before, but at the sound of his mother’s voice he appeared spooked, head whipping to look at her as she lunged for them.

She did not reach him before a large man stepped between them, grabbing Lissa by the bicep and hurling her back down towards Chrom. Lissa wept openly then, Chrom’s solid arms around her protectively, as she raised out a shaking hand to their children.

“Y-You were supposed t-to be _safe_! N-None of us were able to f-find you, they weren’t s-supposed to _either_!”

In return, the Mad Witch laughed at the blonde cleric’s tears. “I have… _methods_ to ensure I get what I want, Lady Lissa. Some places are simply harder to get to than others – they are not _impossible_ to reach.”

The way Severa stiffened behind her gave Tawney a sharp reminder of the foreign presences in her midst. Tawney was no idiot, after all. She knew that these new men and women were not from _Valm_.

Where exactly they _were_ from, she had not yet perfectly deciphered, but she felt that she was inching ever closer to the answer.

Her focus drifted back to the stage as the sorceress kicked Owain in the ribs, the myrmidon prince only showing the pain through his taut posture. Not done, the Mad Witch took a fistful of his hair and yanked his head sharply forward, crowing to the crowd:

“Is this not the nephew you all placed hope in? Pathetic! I thought the wandering prince commanded such a presence that one simply _had_ to listen to his words, yet this miserable excuse of noble blood has not uttered a _word_ since we’ve captured him! No, he’s been behaving the opposite of his damnable mother–”

Inigo’s entire party stiffened. Niles could not help but pinch his nose, irritation welling within him. A deep sigh from Stahl accompanied Severa’s low groan. Next to Leo, Kjelle cursed, Yarne nodding solemnly at her swear – to be honest, Leo wanted to join her in the notion.

All those that knew Owain could sense the storm brewing in his sharp gray-green eyes. Even those of whom he shared very little of his past with knew that one _never_ dared make any teasing comment about the eccentric soldier’s mother. An outsider would hope that someone in his position would exercise patience, but…

This family was _not_ known for any semblance of patience.

“–She behaves when her family is threatened, he acts out and gets chains for his trouble; and while _he_ at least has the decency to hold his tongue, while the whiny _bitch_ simply–”

In what could only be called an _amazing_ feat considering that his wrists and ankles were tightly shackled, Owain lunged upwards and sank his teeth into the Mad Witch’s bare wrist.

The look on her face was that of pure malevolence as one of her mages struck Owain down with a devastating blast of Elthunder; Kasdeya swiftly pressed the heel of her boot against his neck to keep him still.

Aside from the black singe of his tunic and dazed look in his eyes, Owain appeared relatively unharmed. The dark look on his captor’s face let the murmuring audience know that this likely would not last long.

Instead of carrying out something sinister immediately, Kasdeya sent a simper out to an indiscernible point in the crowd, “Your dearest _majesty_ , you still have not made yourself known? Very well. On to the _real_ purpose of today’s event…

“All of Naga’s branded can be seen here, before you,” she started, gesturing to the Ylissean people while keeping her foot on Owain’s neck, “and while it is not a permanent solution to ridding this land of such pests, I now shall have the great satisfaction of dismembering each and every mark. And it seems we have a volunteer!”

Reaching down, she took the thin sleeve of Owain’s gaudy top in her gnarled fingers before ripping the fabric away. The elegant marking no longer hidden, the Mad Witch shifted a tome into her hand, grin dark as she did so.

Two knights came forward to hold Owain down, and the Plegian sorcerer once more looked out, trying to find the one face she wanted.

“Simply come forward, and show yourself, Queen Tawney, and I will stop. Which do you value more: your kin’s flesh remaining intact, or your stubborn pride?”

Nothing. So it was to be the hard way, then.

“Very well. _Arcfire_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA!!! Things are happening!!!
> 
> If it does become longer than a week - you can always harass me on rainbowgrimreaper.tumblr.com to try and make me write more! I hope you like this! Reviews inspire me to write!


	14. Burning Brands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M, I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT'S BEEN. I'M STILL WRITING THIS STORY I SWEAR, I'M JUST A TERRIBLE PERSON, PLEASE FORGIVE ME.
> 
> Thank you!!! To all of you sending reviews, asking me to continue, your words really do help!! When I see them, I'm immediately inspired to get my ass in gear and to write!! That being said- which ever one of you that sent me the anon, like, 24 hours ago - THANK YOU!!! FOR!!! HARASSING ME!!! IT'S OKAY DON'T BE SORRY - I GOT YOUR ANON, AND IMMEDIATELY, I WAS LIKE, SHIT, I'VE REALLY GOTTA FINISH!! This would've been done sooner but it was three in the morning and I couldn't see anymore, aha. So! Here it is, lovelies! Thank you for your patience!
> 
> Warning: blood, eye trauma.

Owain gave a harsh shout before cutting himself off. Smoke filled the surrounding air with the scent of burning flesh, and when Mad Kasdeya removed her hand from the youth’s arm, only a bloody char remained where the brand once was. As the spell ended, he chose to go limp, breathing deeply as he attempted to regain some sense of dignity.

Looking incredibly pleased with herself, the Mad Witch wasted no time in moving over to her next target. Seeing her turn to them, Lissa grabbed her brother’s arm tightly, pressing herself into his side.

Kasdeya tutted as she reached the pair. “Milady, everyone in the nation already knows you have the utmost shame of bearing no brand of the exalt. If you don’t want one carved into your skull like the previous exalt had, you will _move_.”

Eyes wide with terror, Lissa was gently pushed off by Chrom. It was just a burn – he could take that. A burn and nasty scar was something he would take over a threat against Lissa’s life any day. He knew that his beloved wife was aware as well.

No, Tawney would not give herself over to their adversary to stop her husband and nephew from being nonfatally injured. Even if she did step in, he would not worry. He trusted her. He trusted all of his friends, all of the Shepherds.

Chrom made no cry of pain as the flames licked into his pale shoulder. Tawney let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as the Mad Witch took away her burning hand. Chrom was burned and bleeding, yet that man _still_ had the audacity to look out to his disguised shepherds, had the audacity to fix his eyes near her invisible form, had the audacity to smile, eyes crinkling as he did so, and mouth _“I love you.”_

If she had had the time to dwell on this, she would have debated crying or laughing at her other half’s display of brazen affection, even in the hands of a dangerous enchantress.

She did not have that time to think.

Kasdeya sauntered back over to the two blue-haired youths, a terrible grin upon her face. Lucina’s arms were still around her shaking brother, but she now retracted them, her posture changing to that of someone ready to fight. She was ready for the sorcerer to grab her, to mock her in front of her people as she had done to her cousin, to her father–

She was not ready for the vile woman to grab Morgan’s collar and tug him sharply forward.

Deep violet eyes flickered to the princess as her mouth fell open slightly in shock, face turning pink from fury. Playing with her prey was always a delight.

A finger curled delicately around Morgan’s chained wrists, the Witch crooned in front of the nervous townsfolk. “I’ve purged the brand off the last heir, and the current king. Now to remove the stain from what people call the next ruler of _Plegia._ ”

Trailing from the chain to his right hand, she readied her spell. Tawney stiffened, looking at her son, her _baby_ , with his frightened, tear-heavy eyes, with the bruises along his jaw. How did this absolute wench think that she was going to lay a finger on her son without _any_ sort of consequence–

“ _Mother_!”

Tawney’s head snapped up, biting her lip as she looked at her son. Morgan’s eyes flitted between the women, one with her hand on a tome to harm him, and one that loved him with all her heart – could he see through her concealment spell, or could he tell who Frederick was and guess based off of approximation? – and Morgan called to her again, voice breaking as he did.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Mother, I promise! Don’t – Don’t give yourself up just to keep me from getting a little roughed up!” he smiled, her ever optimistic child smiled at her then, regardless of the tear tracks on his face, “I’m tough too! Don’t do something you’ll regret!”

The fire in a worried mother’s heart slowly ebbed away as a fire formed in an unamused captor’s hand. The sorceress curled her hand towards Morgan’s, ready to sear the mark–

Yet the flames recoiled from his hand. Even as the flames grew stronger, no coil managed to lick his skin. Between the obvious lack of burns and the dangerously serious look in his eyes…

 _He’s fighting it,_ Tawney immediately concluded. It was difficult, but extremely gifted and powerful mages were able to redirect a spell aimed at them. She… she couldn’t help but be proud of her darling son. He was trying to stop the magic, trying to keep her from worrying…

Until the Mad Witch scowled, seeing his resistance, and turned toward Lucina.

“Very well, if you wish to delay your punishment, so be it–!”

She pulled back, sending an arc of fire down to Lucina’s face – haphazard, half aimed – only for it to dissipate as well.

It was then that Morgan gave out a cry of pain. Of course, Tawney realized. If his attention was split to his sister, he would be unable to focus on himself…

Morgan whimpered lightly as the burn spread across the back of his hand, searing the brand thoroughly. Kasdeya gave a wicked smile, shoving his head down roughly and achieving another small yelp from the prince. Tawney’s heart was breaking – she had wished no harm to come upon her son in this timeline, and now–

She had failed.

“ _Stop_ it!” Lucina snapped, straining forward despite the threatening hand aimed at her face. Morgan lowered himself down on his knees, panting lightly as once again the stench of melted flesh wafted through the air.

Tawney could feel Frederick’s hand on her shoulder, holding her back. She herself was biting her lip, trying to assess the situation. All that this was supposed to get was for her to step up, speak out, and make herself _known_ to her enemy. This was already horrid enough, what would be done if she didn’t speak up at all? All that was left was Lucina.

Oh, gods, _Lucina_.

The crown princess was pulled forward, a long dark finger snagged in her collar as the sorceress came closer to the anxious Ylissean crowd. Lucina’s muscles went tight, a snarl forming on her lips at the rough treatment, especially as she was forced to push Morgan off to the side. The witch threw Lucina down to the base of the foundation, letting her head smack painfully against the wood. Still, that did not deter Lucina, and after only a second of shock she pulled herself back up, sitting on her knees.

“You will _pay_ for this,” Lucina bit out, even as the tome sparked fire in the Mad Witch’s hand once again.

“Oh, you _miserable_ wretch,” Kasdeya tutted in return, remorse sarcastic at best, a sick sneer curving along her thin jawline, savoring the idea of burning through the princess’s eye. “What good will you be to your kingdom, blinded and _lost_ , unable to lead?”

Fire crackled between fingers, and only Stahl’s hand holding her own kept Tawney still. She – she wasn’t sure she could stay still through this, watch as the _bitch_ disabled her daughter, the strong warrior powerless to _do_ anything without putting her little brother, her cousin, her aunt, her father at risk.

A hard rock was clogging Tawney’s throat, making her sick to her stomach, she could feel her resolve waning as the gnarled hand pulled upwards, ready to give the blow, but just as she opened her mouth to stop her, to _end_ this, she felt Stahl turn her in a hug, pressing her face to his shoulder, hiding the scene from the queen’s eyes.

The smoke rose in the air, the sound of burning flesh was rekindled, and yet Lucina’s yell of pain – it never came. Instead, adding to the previous shock of the event, Lucina’s voice exploded with _anger_ , not fear.

“ _Owain_!”

When Stahl’s arms went slack, cold dread filled the tactician’s body again. Severa’s swearing did not provide any comfort. Oh _gods_ , what had he done…

Up on the platform, Lucina had fallen back slightly, Owain suddenly in front of her. Morgan was gaping, gaze upon – _hell_ , Tawney realized immediately, if Owain had thrown himself between the Mad Witch and Lucina, if he had taken the blow himself…

The carnage visible to those watching was proof enough of what had taken place. Owain, being taller than Lucina, hadn’t been blinded by the magic. Instead, the Mad Witch was withdrawing her hand, malevolent look upon her face, from the prince’s _neck_.

A single slap was all that was needed to send Owain to the ground, unmoving. His neck was drenched in blood, charred skin giving way to open tissue in a gruesome wound. As sure as Tawney was that the Mad Witch was carrying on, saying something heinous about how this wouldn’t stop her, she couldn’t hear anything past Lissa’s shriek, adrenaline burning through her in an uncomfortably familiar _panic_ that she hadn’t felt since she had been in the middle of a battle, where decisions were made without proper thought, but with fear, with _feeling._

At first, Tawney was sure that she was feeling anger, insurmountable anger at seeing such a grave damage done to her only nephew. Yet, when she saw Morgan, when she saw him immediately pressing into Owain’s neck, desperate and terrified, when she saw as her son turned with a face full of horror, looking for guidance, looking for _her_ , as the boy mouthed _He’s not breathing!_ , the true emotion pierced every inch of her body.

The genius tactician of the Shepherds wasn’t angry. No, not that – she was _scared_.

The next few moments were nothing more than a blur. She was certain that Frederick had reached to stop her, but at this point _nothing_ would be halting Tawney. Careful to keep the illusion spell still strong on Stahl, the façade melted off her own form as she pushed her way through the fearful crowd, hand immediately going to remove her Levin Sword from her belt, brandishing it as people backed away from her, giving her room.

The sight of a hooded figure armed with such a potent weapon and dressed in Plegian robes would ordinarily cause their opponent to flee at once. Instead, glee filled Kasdeya’s face, stepping forward to give her desired audience the proper welcome. Tawney, however, had lost any remaining patience.

“You will fetch a staff for my sister-in-law at _once_ ,” the green-haired mage hissed, glancing only sparingly to the three youths out of her grasp. “Give Princess Lissa a healing staff and I will – I will listen, I will give you no trouble, I will put up no struggle for the rest of the day, you can have your way with me, you can barter your cause all you want.”

A dark silence hung in the air as the Mad Witch pondered her words, Tawney stiff in return as Owain’s life bled out before her, Lucina and Morgan unable to help. After a few terribly tense seconds, the villain snapped her fingers, and a healing staff was shoved unceremoniously to Lissa. The healer clutched it as though it were a lifeline, the soft green glow illuminating the stage swiftly.

Tawney was still shaking somewhat, rage and fear pumping adrenaline through her body, even as she watched color return to Owain’s face, even as she saw Lissa nearly collapse with relief, even as Kasdeya, that _wicked_ witch, ignored the family, choosing instead to walk closer, like a wolf stalking a cornered sheep.

The sorceress only stopped at the very end of the platform, sneering down condescendingly at the master tactician, “I’ve paid _your_ price. You’ve given your word to listen,”

“And my word is my bond,” Tawney retorted, “I will not do anything to stop you from claiming me as a prize today. Regardless, I have little patience. _Speak_ , or I will bring it upon myself to cut out your tongue at the day’s end.”

The laugh that came in response nearly _crackled_ , similar to the rumble of a storm right before lightning struck the land below. Hooded eyes concentrated solely on the hooded figure, drowning out all else, all the Ylissean commonfolk, all of the Shepherds that had begun to busy themselves in their own ways, even as one young man tore from his group and into the nearby alley, angrily stealing into a bad that he had left for the document within.

“I’ve told you what I need. You must wed my own son, and bear him an heir, and then _name_ him as the heir for our country. Disown the brats that lie behind me – it is for the sake of _Plegia_ that you must be concerned! No other country-”

“If that is the _case_ , Mad Witch, explain this to me: if no other countries need be involved, explain why all of our foreign affairs with the continent of Valm have been halted? You do not expect me to simply believe that Rosanne, Ylisse’s second greatest ally after Ferox, or the mighty nation of Chon’sin – would simply cease all correspondence?

“The only messages that have gotten through to Rosanne are those of personal, more _domestic_ matters.” Tawney finished, eye contact unwavering. To the unknowing eye, Kasdeya did not falter, but to the queen herself, there was a new steely glint in her gaze.

“You cannot prove that anyone has impacted the transfer of information between the nations. Besides… what does it matter? Chon’sin is too busy in their own affairs, and Rosanne, well…”

Once again, the sneer turned into a cold, sinister smile. “What need do you have of such a small duchy? The duke is dead, the duchess dying, and their son has been missing for months,”

_Near the alleyway, the man returned, immediately going to his friend’s steed, hoisting himself up. Those around him could not stop him now as he turned the beast, a hard stare aimed at the woman on the platform, her form blocking those of his dear friends._

“They may as well have civil war, for it’s clear that the line has ended. It’s a shame, really, perhaps their wyverns could’ve helped you. As it is, Duke Virion will not spring from his unmarked grave, and Duchess Olivia is too far gone. It isn’t as though Duke _Inigo_ will turn up anytime soon–”

The solid _thunk_ of an arrow sinking into flesh cut Kasdeya off, a soldier having stepped in front of her to take the blow. He slowly plucked it from his shoulder, seemingly unperturbed by the blood dribbling from the wound, before handing the arrow to the witch herself.

She took the parchment attached, furious eyes scanning the crowd only to fall on the man on a horse, his cloak pulled back to show his face. His eyes burned like fire, challenge clear in the way he held himself.

“You’ll find that the document you hold will allow for Rosanne to aid Ylisse against your vile effort, witch,” Inigo sounded, lips nearly curling into a snarl. “Acting as the present Duke I call upon my people to give support to Ylisse in anyway possible, be it soldiers, weapons, or spies.”

Overhead, a dark shadow swept through the crowd, a wyvern soaring high above the Ylisseans and disappearing before anyone could react. Kasdeya ran her finger over Inigo’s signature, rage coursing so violently through her veins that the parchment caught fire. She crushed the burning paper in her hands, shoulders raised, pinched, voice becoming a roar.

“You _miserable_ wretch! You’ll pay for this – it barely matters! Your queen is defenseless, you’ve _lost_ –”

With a flick of her hand, soldiers descended from the platform, toward Tawney. The famed tactician didn’t pay them any attention. Instead, she looked past them, past the sorceress, past where Lissa was continuing to fret over the kids, to the one man that she ever dared let guide her.

Chrom.

He was looking back at her, a certain painful tension in his gaze, words spoken without the movement of lips. He wanted her to move, to run, to flee. He was yelling at her, screaming without a voice, to get away, save herself. He loved her too much to let her fall so easily. As it was, she had given her word. She would not resist the attempts to capture her.

Tawney had no say in what the Shepherds chose to do, however.

It wasn’t long before Frederick had grabbed hold of her, picking her up in one fell swoop and stealing her away, back through the rioting crowd of commoners. As Tawney had said before, giving orders to Inigo and Severa alongside the Nohrians… if things were to go to shit, cause as much chaos as possible.

A massive red dragon sealed off an escape route down which Noire and Inigo had already fled on horseback, Laurent putting up protective barriers. Off in the distance, the remaining shepherds had transformed or begun to clear the area, while Severa had already ran off at Stahl’s side, careful to get him away before they were caught. Tawney wanted to look back, make sure that her children were not being wounded in retaliation, to see Chrom’s relief that she was leaving – but alas, Frederick’s armor was too large, blocking her way of sight. Instead, she could do nothing but be carried, raw anger gnawing through her body, frustrated that things seemed so out of her control.

They needed something new, an idea that would allow for them to get more information, have a safer way to spy on the Mad Witch’s affairs, to check up on the captives, to set free the shepherds contained in the dungeons – they needed a _plan_.

If there was one thing Tawney was good at, it was figuring out a plan. They hadn’t had much luck so far, yet…

Perhaps the newcomers had skills _they_ could offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, truly, thank you all for the continued support. I'm truly so so sorry for this awful wait. It's been two months... not okay!!! Especially on such a cliff hanger... I suck, I'm sorry. But let it be known that I do!!! Hear you! Sometimes it just takes a desperate anon, aha... so if I'm ever grossly late again, feel free to send me an ask at rainbowgrimreaper.tumblr !! don't worry, anon or not, i'll hear you, and i'll probably screen shot it so that I can be haunted by you until I finish the chapter.
> 
> I hope you liked this one, everyone!


	15. Under the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: YOOOOO IT ME, who knew i'd update so soon??? I didn't,, anyways, honestly? I wasn't gonna write about how the Nohr fam felt about Owain being tortured, I hadn't thought about it - but all y'all seemed interested, so I thought, why not??? Enjoy!!!

Once out of danger, those who had fled back to safety immediately found themselves marching in an eerie, uncomfortably tense silence. Xander and Camilla were up further ahead while Leo, Niles, and Elise drifted a bit slower, Niles only there in order to keep his eye on the two. Dark birds were flying overhead, almost guiding the group, but Leo could not focus on them, he could hardly do more than keep himself walking, replaying the images of what had just transpired in his mind.

He had never, _ever_ seen Odin – Owain, now, he supposed – so _helpless._ He was supposed to be loud, brash, making ridiculous comments and laughing as if there wasn’t a nearby threat, skirting danger at the last moments, joyful and silly and _always by his side_.

Not… so angry, and _weak_ , nearly dying if it hadn’t been for Tawney’s quick thinking – admittedly, Leo was growing a good bit of respect for the queen – and now, having seen his retainer – no, his _friend_ – tortured and humiliated… there truly was no other option.

“It’s okay, big brother, we’ll… find a way to help! We’ll get Owain back to safety.”

Leo had barely noticed Elise taking his hand in her own, keeping pace with the older sibling as they returned. The young princess glanced over at Niles, aware of his odd silence and the thin line his lips had been drawn to. Perhaps she wouldn’t take his hand, after all, all of her older siblings had warned against that more times than she could count, but she wanted to comfort him as well.

“C’mon, Niles! How many times have you said that Owain was too insane for an enemy to kill! No matter what crazy thing he was supposed to do, he’d always come back successful, ready to tell some wild story about the adventure!”

Near to them, a couple of the second generation of Shepherds smiled, rolled their eyes, snorted at Elise’s commentary – so these foreigners really _had_ known their rambunctious friend.

Even so, Niles’ face only darkened. He stayed quiet the entire way back, for the rest of the day, speaking to no one until he was alone with Leo, sitting out under the night sky with Circe after almost everyone of the Underground had gone to sleep. He stared up at the stars, not acknowledging Leo sitting down in the grass beside him.

“Are you going to talk, or what? We’re alone. You’re clearly as upset by this as I am.”

Niles scoffed at Leo’s words, ignoring the way his hand was held tightly, thin fingers clutching those that were strong and weathered by archery. Perhaps Leo thought they were alone, and that he could divulge information in private, but he knew better – the dark miasma of a sorcerer was nearby, an aura far colder than Leo’s own. He hadn’t the chance to converse in proper with this Tharja, yet, but clearly she was far too devoted to the tactician queen to break her word of watching him.

Then again, when was he one to care about eavesdropping? It’d be mighty hypocritical if it kept him from talking to Leo.

Being such, he sighed, running his free hand back through his hair as he continued stargazing. “Twisted, isn’t it? That was supposed to be you, in some odd other fate. Those _Risen_ characters…” the thief gave a short bark of a laugh, “we thought they wanted you. _I_ thought they wanted you. I didn’t even notice at the time how… how _scared_ that idiot looked.”

“Niles, what happened wasn’t anyone’s fault–”

A steely, one-eyed glare that Niles would never dare give if others were around pierced through Leo’s body, causing him to silence himself. Leo had been far, far too focused on his own wellbeing during the fight to have had the chance to observe his retainers. That was how it was supposed to be, after all. They were supposed to watch him, not the other way around. Still, the sharp, aching bitterness in Niles’ tone betrayed just how stirred up he was by the event, though only Leo, of those available, would have noticed the difference between it and his usual hostility.

“We had been surrounded. I didn’t understand it. If they were going after a target, I had been so sure it was _you_. Perhaps, then, the Risen were fools, and wanted your lackeys out of the way for an easier chance at you. Odin, Owain, what does it _matter_ he was Odin then; Odin was as quiet as a goddamn _corpse_ , and it pissed me off, _gods_ it pissed me off. I wanted to beat some sense into his head because if he wasn’t fighting his best it could’ve cost _your_ safety.

“When I had the chance to glimpse him,” he continued, lips curling to a snarl, grip tightening, “his little façade had already started to fall apart, like it does during really intense fights – you know the type, the final battle, for one,” Niles spat, gaze drifting down from the sky to the dark grass, “It was infuriating, I thought he’d finally lost his damn mind, because this wasn’t nearly as dangerous a fight. He’d just stare at his damn tomes as if they were in another language, and he’d make trivial mistakes, kept reaching down to his waist as though some other weapon would be there, waiting for him. One of those Risen shit nearly had his head if not for a quick shot of my own. Then the fool had the _gall_ to stare at me as if I was some stranger.”

“He must have been reliving the past,” Leo provided, knowing that it didn’t mean anything one way or the other. It could not make Niles feel any better, now.

“We _didn’t know_ his fucking past,” Niles snapped back, blue eye cold, narrowed in frustration, “We didn’t know about _any_ of this shit, they kept hiding it even after they could’ve left, _idiots_ , if they had just _said_ something, if we had _known_ that Odin was a fucking prince, that he wasn’t from our world – for someone so smart, able to keep these secrets for ten fucking years, he was so, so _stupid_! We both trusted him, we let him _know_ about our lives, and we _thought_ we knew his. If he hadn’t been so stubborn – if he had _actually_ thought us friends, and trusted us – then maybe we wouldn’t have fucking _lost_ him that night, and we wouldn’t be here! We could’ve focused on his goddamn safety, gotten him away, instead of just letting me watch as he got consumed by his own terror and get _taken_.”

The night dissolved into silence, Leo frowning as he found Niles had begun _crying_ , tears making his eye shine brighter with fury, with _pain_.

Wordlessly, Leo thumbed away the few wet drops on the other’s face, careful to keep his voice level as he did.

“We can’t change what happened. They made their choice – what’s done is done. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s not _your_ fault. By the time we lost him, you’d nearly been killed yourself,” the prince sighed, rolling his eyes lightly, “I was stressed, for one, watching… once I realized that not all was well. When sister started flying to Xander, and I glanced to see where you both were… and I _didn’t_.”

It became quiet again, tension ebbing out of the two as everything haunting them was let into the air. After a few more beats in which nothing was said, Niles curled a hand to Leo’s neck, tugging him closer in order to kiss the top of his head. Leo gave a soft hum, thinking to himself, only to be interrupted by Niles again.

“He’s… such a _dumbass…_ but he’s still… a friend.”

“Careful there, you’re getting sentimental. I don’t believe you can handle such a thing for more than a minute or so. Regardless, you’re correct. Unfortunately, we care for him, so this entire situation won’t do.”

“No choice indeed, milord. You’re terrible at making friends, can’t let you lose one.”

“ _Hey_ -”

“If you both could stop your sickeningly affectionate bickering,” came a low voice, a certain quality to it giving it the feel of a cold ooze slowly suffocating the night air, “milady Tawney would like a word with _you_ ,”

As if materializing out of the darkness itself, Tharja appeared, beckoning to Leo with a single finger, sneer upon her face. In return, Leo stiffly stood, quickly masking any previous emotion.

“What is it that her highness wants of me?” he asked, not yet moving. Tharja could only huff in return, unamused.

“She has some questions for you. Wanted me to fetch you at my earliest notice. I suggest you don’t keep her waiting… she may be patient, but _I_ am not.”

Somewhat chilled by the edge of her tone, Leo relented, giving a slight wave to Niles for him to remain as he walked back to the Underground’s depths. Tharja did not appear to be following him, remaining outside with his retainer. Leo wasn’t entirely certain who he felt bad for, in that situation.

Then again… he too could be getting into hot water. Depending on what Tawney wished to ask him…

He was being silly, he decided. It was far too early for Tawney to figure out that the Nohrians were more foreign than one could reasonably imagine.

No one was _that_ smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I really hope you liked it!!! It was odd to focus more on a Fates perspective than Awakening, aha. Also I have no self control, so leoniles was,,, my first idea lmao I'm so happy!!! That all of you are continuing to love this story. It really makes me smile! Sorry if it's odd, this chapter? I originally intended to go straight to questioning by Tawney, but y'all were right, seeing how Leo especially would react to it... couldn't pass up an opportunity for Feelings.


	16. Passage of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i'm alive
> 
> what is UP my dudes. I'm so so so sorry that this took so long - uni's been killing me. Especially you, sweet tumblr anon - I wish I had been able to get this out sooner!!! But something in my mind snapped today and despite my ass getting whooped this chapter finally decided to be finished. Huzzah!

The sound of the scratching of a quill filled the room, Tawney bent over a table, jotting down whatever it was she was writing as quickly as she could. Leo could see the crease of her brows, her green hair tangled and loose from her pigtails, a slightly pallid look to her cheeks.

He had realized, by now, how _different_ she looked when compared to all of the… Ylisseans, that was it, the Ylisseans he had seen. Her skin was a warm brown, darker than Inigo’s, _much_ darker than Severa’s. The color of her eyes was near gold when she stood in bright light, changing from a more tan, sepia color. Really, he should’ve _known_ that this whole kidnapping scheme was political, should’ve guessed when he saw Tawney surrounded by so many others who did not look like _her_ that she, like Inigo, was _not_ Ylissean. Her features were sharp, narrow, like the two other Plegian sorcerers, Henry and Tharja, and the three of them were thinner, taller than the Ylisseans of the underground.

He should’ve _known_ that this was going to be an international affair. How often did royals get kidnapped by their own country? After all, Corrin had been kidnapped by Nohr from Hoshido, and Azura had been kidnapped by Hoshido from Nohr. By following Inigo and Severa, the five of them had been brought into a _very_ messy situation between countries, _cultures_ that they knew _nothing_ of.

Leo paused, standing in the doorway, distracted as Tawney gestured to the chair before her without glancing at him. Fiddling with his hands slightly, he did as he was supposed to, quietly waiting for her to speak. It did not take long.

“I have spoken with your younger sister, Elise,” she commented, quill still scratching on the parchment. It took only a glance for Leo to see that the writing was indecipherable to him, a language he did not know.

“She told me that all of you were from the small country of Mojell, on the continent of Valm. That you and your family worked as farmers?”

“Indeed,” Leo returned, immediately jumping onto Elise’s words, “we mainly raised animals instead of vegetables, especially cattle.”

“Yes. She said her particular favorite was a roan cow by the name of Star Dancer.”

“A wonderful beast, that one. Gives us more milk than any other.”

Leo’s face kept carefully neutral as Tawney finally looked up from her writing, setting down her quill. Crossing her arms on the table, she leaned forward, eye contact direct and almost uncomfortable for the Nohrian prince.

“You think fairly quickly, Leo,” spoken softly, the words were guarded, not quite cold, but not necessarily friendly either. “Especially considering the fact that I never spoke to your sister, and the fact that there _is_ no country Mojell.”

Heat flushed across Leo’s cheeks, the mage cursing himself inwardly for walking into such a simple trap. Elise of all people wouldn’t have given such creative a story without talking to her siblings first, he should’ve _known_.

Tawney’s lips quirked upwards to a small grin at Leo’s obvious embarrassment at being caught, her hand coming up so she could rest her cheek upon it.

“You know, you really do remind me of a younger version of myself. I can sense your magical abilities. They’re… remarkably strong. You have talent as well as skill. You’re what… twenty or so? Yes, at your age, I certainly had the talent. Can’t say for sure whether or not I had skill. Amnesia’s a tricky thing.”

Pursing his lips, Leo was about to speak, confused by the tactician’s words, but she cut him off smoothly. “Let’s be honest with each other now, yes? Tell me where you’re from, Leo. _Truthfully_. I’m afraid that you and your companions may face some dire consequences if you refrain from giving me all of the information.”

A beat of silence lingered, clear hesitance still written on the younger’s face, and Tawney sighed. “It’ll be easier if you simply tell me now. Severa is a loyal girl, I’m sure you know, but if I ask her she _will_ tell me the truth. She never manages to keep a secret all that well from those she protects, if prodded.”

Wearily, Leo slumped just slightly in his seat, fingers tapping against his legs rhythmically as he tried to figure out what to say. Would Severa truly break so easily? No matter how often Camilla had asked her about her past, her home, she had never once budged. But Camilla, she was _different_ from Severa’s _true_ lieges, wasn’t she? In such a case, then Severa would indeed inform the queen…

His resolve was broken. “We are of Nohr, a kingdom… that does not belong to this world. We followed Severa and Inigo when they set off to find a portal that would take them… home. We were – we were concerned for Owain, as well.

“They never told us who they really were, or where they were from, only that they were far, far away from home. We stopped questioning it after a while. We… became friends. All of us did,” he finished, Niles’ words fresh in his mind.

Tawney only gave a nod, watching him silently before she picked her quill back up, writing again in the foreign language. It came as a surprise when Leo felt her lay a hand on his shoulder, looking at him as though she could see his whole life.

“Thank you. Now, another important question. How long has it been since you met those three?” The feather of her quill brushed her lips, a curious look gleaming in her eyes. “This is vital for me to know. It’s been only a couple months since I last saw them – yet they appear to have matured so _much_. Severa’s a bit calmer, more obedient, Inigo’s less flighty, more focused…”

Tawney’s eyes had narrowed, as if she knew that somewhere time was not adding up properly. Despite her clear knowledge of the discrepancy, her eyes still widened greatly upon hearing the truth.

“It’s been about a… decade, your highness.”

Tawney dipped her head down with another sigh, a long _scratch_ following as she wrote a bit more, holding her quill a little tighter than necessary. Afterwards, she held her head in her hands, not looking at Leo.

“Ten _years_ … of _course_ they’d have matured, then… from late teens, young adults to… mentally, late twenties, early thirties… Well, I suppose that’s not important, Nowi’s lived for so long and hasn’t changed her ways…

“Leo,” she paused, eyes darting to the item which sat in his lap, making him stiffen involuntarily, “you hold a book that focuses on the magic of life, yes? I can feel its power…”

“Yes, Brynhildr, it’s… devoted majorly to such spells.”

“Give it to me.”

Now, to _that_ , Leo wasn’t sure what to say. Brynhildr was what made him _special_ , it was too _important_ to just… hand over.

As if sensing his worry, the tactician gave a small wave, shaking her head. “I’m not going to harm it. Of course not… its power gives off the same resonance as, say, the Falchion… there are many legendary weapons, Leo, and those able to wield them are few and far in-between… Usually, each follows a bloodline. However, if I’m to start fixing the… dimensional mess that’s been created, I’m going to need a peek.”

Moving a bit closer, Leo uneasily pulled out the tome, placing it tentatively on the space between them. Tawney’s eyes lit up in excitement at seeing something harboring _new_ magic, and she gently lifted the cover and started searching through the book.

“You can read it?” A soft question, almost disbelieving. It earned a hum in response.

“Indeed. I’ve studied more languages than I can count, but this one – it is still somewhat unfamiliar, in writing, but has a clear runic quality. Now, may I have your hand? I’m afraid that despite my considerable power, dear Brynhildr will not bend so easily to my will without your consent.”

Glancing at the offered thin, ring-riddled hand, Leo bit his lip. “What is it that you intend to do?”

“I thought you’d have been able to guess, by now,” Tawney supplied, still peering at a particular spell she had flipped too, the fingers of her other hand tracing the words, “If those three spent ten years in your own world, that means that ten of your years is equal to only a couple months of my time. Do you not see how this is a problem? According to my calculations, that means that for every day that goes past in my world… two months or so have passed in your own. As soon as word of you arrived, I was curious as to such a possible time lapse – and I put a hasty spell on you and yours to halt your immediate aging. Still, you all must have spent some time here before I was able to do such a thing – as such, while I have prevented the repercussions of sudden aging upon you five, your homeland has still gone through _months_ with all of you having disappeared.”

Rolling her eyes slightly, Tawney gave a small huff, “The four of you siblings are clearly of high standing in your world, judging by mannerism and dress alone. It’d cause disarray should all of you disappear for months without any trace – so I need you to assist me in setting things right. Since Brynhildr here is a tome of _life_ , with your power strengthening my own we should be able to reset your world to the exact time it sprung a rift allowing you all to escape as well as holding it as such until you can return. Similarly, it will continue to hold your ages frozen in time in a stronger fashion than the spell I threw together, earlier. Is this agreeable to you?”

Not for the first time since meeting the queen, Leo was at a loss for words. It all made sense, certainly – explained the holes of reasoning that allowed for the trio to hardly age in their own world.

And _gods_ – the last few months that must’ve passed in Nohr were most likely beyond _chaotic_. The retainers that remained – Peri, Beruka, Arthur, and Effie – were the only ones that would have known the cause behind the disappearance of _all_ of Nohr’s remaining royals, and the idea that those four would have to hold the nation together without exposing such a secret…

_Catastrophe._

“I’ll do it,” came the quick words, reaching out and gripping the tactician’s hand with his own. A pleased – if not somewhat relieved – smile curved its way across her face, and slowly she began reading the foreign words Brynhildr offered to her.

A warm glow permeated the room, Tawney’s long green tresses starting to shift and blow out behind her just as Leo could feel a hot breeze push back his own hair. He could not pull his hand back, even as it started to burn, for something held the two together as more strange-sounding calls exited Tawney’s mouth, golden eyes shimmering as each spell in the tome turned a fiery orange as she read.

It took an eternity. It took only a few seconds. Time didn’t exist as far as Leo could be concerned, once the spell had been completed. All of a sudden he was on his feet again, Brynhildr nestled in his arms, leaving the room as the Plegian-born queen’s next words spoke softly from her tired, yet almost _eerie_ smile.

“Thank you for your assistance, Leo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! FOR STICKING WITH ME!!! gosh I really don't deserve yall,,, hopefully the next chapter won't take so long!! thank you for all the kudos and reviews, they really do help push me along!
> 
> Remember, you can always stop by rainbowgrimreaper on tumblr if you want to yell at me or remind me to write!! <3


	17. Word Travels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, probably: time to wait another few months for next update
> 
> Me, crawling out of the gutters: SURPRISE, BITCH-
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for your continued support! It means the world to me. Please enjoy this installment from a rather different POV. <3

_A gentle knock rapped upon the door, and with no hesitation, it was opened to reveal Gerome, panting lightly and looking as though he had sprinted a mile without rest. The woman who had let him in gave a warm smile to the young man, tucking her own pink hair behind an ear and pulling him into a hug – eliciting the tiniest of smiles from the wyvern rider._

_“Sweetheart, you’re back so soon? Is everything still stable in Ylisse?”_

_With the smallest of nods and a fair dose of hesitance, Gerome followed his mother farther into the room. “I’ve come with word from Tawney. Owain’s been captured as well.”_

_“May his soul be unbroken,” came soft words from the gentle, blond-haired man that had turned from the bed in the back, his weary eyes brightening if only slightly when they came to rest upon his son. “Has Naga sent any good news with you, Gerome?”_

_Holding the pale parchment in his gloved hands, Gerome took another step closer, “Seven wanderers were accosted in Ylisstol. They have joined our cause. Five of them are foreign, but two of them – Severa has returned to defend the queen, and…”_

_Cherche nearly snatched the letter from Gerome’s hands at his words, quickly opening it and moving closer to Libra, hovering over the bed. Both pairs of eyes scanned the document, relief clear on the war monk’s face while Cherche smiled brightly._

_“Rosanne has officially entered the fight,” the female flier said, joy evident in her tone as she traced the seal next to the signature, at the end. “We can finally send aid – we can help our friends!”_

_“It’s a miracle,” Libra mused gently, pressing his forehead against Cherche’s own as he kissed the corner of her smile affectionately, “to find such a sudden beacon of hope… both for Ylisse as well as Rosanne…”_

_Turning slightly, Libra took the letter and moved to the head of the bed, carefully sitting next to the face devoid of emotion, rose-colored hair spilling out, tangled, across the pillows._

_“Friend, look,” the priest spoke tentatively, seeing the peach-hued eyes staring back at him, for once looking truly present. He smoothed the page out, holding it before the woman’s face so that she could read it if she wanted. “Olivia, Rosanne is going to aid Ylisse.”_

_A faint hum exited the slightly parted lips of the duchess, Olivia’s eyes slowly glancing at word by word. She hadn’t spoken for days, perhaps even more than a week, and her voice cracked partially from the disuse as the dancer cautiously rose a finger to tap the signature at the bottom, tears noticeably bubbling up._

_“Inigo.”_

_“Yes, friend, that’s Inigo’s signature. He and Severa have returned.”_

_“Baby… my…”_

_“He wrote this himself. He’s alive – he’s safe.”_

_“Want… to be with him. My son.”_

_Sharing a glance briefly with his wife, Libra paused before giving a grin to the woman now pushing herself up, against the pillows, despite her exhausted expression._

_“As soon as your health permits, we can go.”_

It was well into the next morning when those who had been captured during the initial takeover of the castle were given their next meal. There weren’t many Pegasus Knights remaining – since the fall of Grima, Cordelia had been slowly recruiting new members and training them, their numbers rising to a couple dozen – but in the attempt to save the royal family from capture, many had given their lives. Now only a handful remained, most having grown listless in their defeat. Even Cynthia, who was by far the most energetic of the knights, only ever found joy of late from the few meals that were delivered to the cell in which they were held.

Not because of the food, of course, but because of the one who brought it.

Cynthia perked up immediately at the sound of light footsteps echoing throughout the dungeons, scrambling to the bars of the cell and peeking out to who was coming. She got a rather exhausted smile from the man in return, but tired as it was, it was enough.

“Dad, you’re back!” she reached out, the thief taking her hand in return briefly before sitting on the floor, pulling food out of the bag he had with him. He had fruit as well as cakes, vials of soup corked shut and a couple leather sacks of water. Ever since he had found out that the knights were not being tended to – the Mad Witch cared not whether they lived or died – Gaius had made it his main duty to make whatever he could to keep them alive.

 _Especially_ Sumia and Cynthia. He couldn’t abandon his family.

“What _happened_ yesterday? There was so much noise from the guards,” Cordelia murmured, glancing up from where she sat near the back of the cell. Gaius shifted uncomfortably in return, a grimace pulling at his lips.

“Made a show of the royal family for all of the capitol yesterday. Nearly offed Prince Owain,” he started, “Bubbles went and lost it when that happened. She’d remained pretty calm while that witch was _burning the brands off of them all_.”

At the looks of horror bestowed upon him from the exhausted women, Gaius raised a slight hand, weary in his placating, “They didn’t get to do it to Princess Lucina because her daft cousin decided to get in the way. Bubbles nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw what happened. It’s been a _long_ time since I’ve seen Fred go and drag her off like that. Real chaos, Stumbles, like you wouldn’t believe.

“I suppose that’s where the good news comes in,” the thief added with a wry smile, earning an especially hopeful look from Cynthia. “Rosanne’s officially part of this spat. Even with Babe and his Lordship out of the picture… you know what that means, Cupcake.”

“ _Inigo!”_ Some mixture of a strangled gasp and a loud squeal was let loose from Cynthia, as though she’d been expecting to hear _anything_ else. Sitting up sharply in the back, Cordelia quickly came closer to the bars of the cell, gripping them with steel-hardened eyes. Gaius could see the clear desperation she was trying so hard to hide.

“Is she – _Gaius_ , please, does that mean that-”

There was a certain care to which Gaius placed one of his hands over Cordelia’s, a new seriousness stowing away the weak comic relief he had been providing to the prisoners.

“You’re right on the nose, Mother. Your girl’s home too, all in one piece.”

And if Cordelia cried, then, a guttural sob, no one paid her any mind. Gaius wasn’t about to stoop so low as to mock this weakness the prodigy had as though it wasn’t well deserved. No, he was here to deliver food and news, and he had done his job.

After all, he had never really thought that he’d be able to tell Cordelia that Severa was back in Ylisse, healthy and whole, no less. Perhaps it was pessimistic, but he had been certain that those three were lost forever the second they left for home. But miracles, maybe they did happen, and if Inigo, Severa, and Owain were able to return from Naga knows where, then… then maybe, they’d be able to win this properly, and he’d be able to set the Pegasus Knights free…

Maybe he’d be able to hug his own daughter again before this was all over.

(He was allowed to cry, too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done with Gaius yet - he's still got a few people to visit next chapter. ;)


	18. Feelings Left Unsaid, Now Uncovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see i SAID I was still alive look at me holy shit i'm here i swear  
> i'm so sorry for this long ass wait for a chapter y'all,,, life be like that sometimes. even now i'm uh. half asleep? bc that's when i do my best writing apparently. i kept deleting and rewriting this chapter a LOT so. oof. i was just never happy with it... this was going to include more from Gaius' POV, but it began getting a little long, so i was like why not just post this part as its own chapter? show everyone i'm still kickin? here we are folks.
> 
> you gotta think about how like,,, robin in any post-awakening universe probably shoulders some major guilt and self loathing for the whole grima thing. Tawney's no exception. Her feelings aren't deeply explored here, but they are potent. frankly, all the kids and gen1 as well are holding in a lot of feelings about how everything went down. it's impossible to keep that in forever.

“So let me get this straight… you three intentionally dimension-hopped because an unstable god begged for your help due to your skills and experience in fighting dragons… only for you to end up playing a game of political tension for ten years until… until war broke out, and then you not only fought in the war, but you… you saw it through to the end?”

Had Leo known that the queen was going to admonish Inigo and Severa in front of him, his siblings, and Niles, he wouldn’t have done it. Better to have let Severa confess and keep the rest of them out of this.

Though he knew they weren’t family, they certainly felt like one. It was that odd sort of pack bond that the trio themselves possessed, but… larger, this time. Perhaps the Shepherds really _were_ one large family, regardless of blood relation.

But Leo was not the type to stick around when a tutor was tugging on the ear of any of his siblings: this felt like it would be a public humiliation, if it were not for the dampness to Tawney’s eyes that no one dared mention.

That, and the deep mix of guilt and shame that coated Inigo and Severa’s faces. Inigo was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, pointedly looking anywhere other than the tactician queen, a deep flush across his face from his clear embarrassment… and hurt.

Severa’s hurt was more plain. She faced the woman who sat upon her desk, hands clasped and face nearly unreadable, with stormy eyes and a pinched grimace that told a lot to everyone else in the room.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she started, bumping her shoulder with Inigo’s in order to gain his attention. He granted it, even if his eyes were clouded with a tempest of unshared thoughts.

Before she could continue, Tawney cut her off. “Severa… you cannot deny that such a story, it parallels… I am not condemning you for your decision, but if it is in anyway out of… not quite pity, but… There must have been a better way, a better strategy to approach this…”

“What, like we were gonna ask all of you to join? Ha! Anankos came to us for a reason,” Severa rebuked, tossing one long pigtail over her shoulder in order to deflect any notion that she was stumbling through her confidence, “He knew exactly which people would be easy enough to convince to help out. Have you seen the lot of us, Tawney? When haven’t Owain, Inigo, and I moved around? We’re restless and bored!”

“That’s not it… war isn’t a game for the restless to play, Severa.”

There was no way for the Nohrians to butt into the discussion, near argument, it was not their place. This was especially true once the atmosphere shifted with Severa’s words: this was no longer an adult, a parent-figure, lecturing two unruly kids – now, with the royal titles and retainer mannerisms dropped, it was becoming easier to glimpse how life must have been nearly two decades ago: when the time-travelers had first become part of this world.

This was not a retainer beseeching her queen; this was not a child trying to escape punishment: this was a friend and her once-comrade-in-arms, _equals_ , speaking as if they were still on an older time’s battlefield. Old habits such as these didn’t die hard; they didn’t die at all.

It seemed, however, that Tawney’s soft push toward the truth had gained Inigo’s attention even more, and despite Severa’s readiness to pop off, he managed to take control of the conversation.

“War isn’t a game at all, Tawney. We all know that here. Hell, I know it more than either of you – that was Father’s whole perspective on life! War isn’t some fun activity like chess that you play like a game, where anything goes for any sort of win, war isn’t measured in wins, you can’t win a war. That’s why he – that’s why he surrendered Rosanne to Valm, that’s why he never attempted to take up battle tactics, because you’re right, this isn’t a game. You _choose_ to play a game. No one chooses to go to war… at least, not for bragging rights of ‘winning.’ People choose war for other reasons… very few of which are good.”

“Yet you three _did_!” came the incredulous return, no more angry than confused. “You three decided on your own accord to just – pack up and assist some strange cloaked figure that begs you for the kindness of killing Him? To – To save His world? Save His child? I don’t want to think that you looked at this person and you saw – saw–”

“Good, because we _didn’t_ think about you when we signed up!” Severa snapped, taking a step forward. “Gawds, you believe in us _so_ much, don’t you? You think that we saw Anankos, some poor soul all wrapped up with an evil dragon alter-ego, and went – _oh!_ He’s just like Tawney! – and you think that we’re oh so selfless because we saw you in Him, and we, we had to help Him because of something like that? That we couldn’t just abandon a _you_ from another world?”

The room went silent. A pregnant beat of quiet filled the air, thick as smoke, as the two women with their hair up in pigtails stared at each other, both full of hurt, tears in their eyes. Inigo tried to covertly brush his own away before anyone noticed.

If there was any hope that the silence would last, that quickly faded as Severa’s fuse blew, the mercenary beginning to shout as watery streaks began dripping down her now pink cheeks, absolutely destroying the suffocating cloud of guilt that was clinging to the weary tactician of legend.

“You think we’re _selfless_? That we did this with you in mind? Ha! You’ve got it all wrong,” Severa yelled out, a sob punctuating her statement, “we didn’t do this because we’re selfless. We did it because we’re _selfish_! We did this for – for _us_!

“We didn’t see _you_ in Anankos. E-Even if we did, that wasn’t our reason for doing this! We did it because we didn’t want – we didn’t want more kids like _us_! We didn’t want more orphans born to a hellscape of a world that would be forced to pick up their parents’ fight! We didn’t want kids of people like _them_ to end up miserable like _us_!” she snapped, arm violently gesturing toward the five onlookers. “We didn’t even do it for _free_! Anankos – Anankos promised that, that He’d give – give our original parents p-proper graves! Of _course_ He took the three of us! We’re just – we’re just dumb, stupid kids even now, aren’t we? _Aren’t we_? We’re idiots who don’t even think about how noble and _right_ it would be if we went to go save some other world that we could live perfectly fine without! We think about how afraid _we_ are still today, of how our childhoods fucked us up forever, in that life _and_ in this one, and we couldn’t handle it! Only _us_ three are childish enough to make such a deal with such little prior thought or preparation.

“After all, why not ask Luci? Isn’t she the biggest hero of us all? Why _wouldn’t_ Anankos select some warrior princess who devoted her life to preserving a pleasant future? It’s because Lucina wouldn’t fall so easily for that! Even with the promise of graves, she’d still have needed time to think, to plan, she’s _your_ kid, she wouldn’t just waltz off without more information, and – and Anankos didn’t have _time_ for more information.”

Severa was only faintly aware of the fingers curled around her own, warm and familiar, as she brought her free hand up to her mouth; she bit down on her thumb as another sob waved over her. It had been ten _years_ of bottling up these feelings. And now, now Tawney _knew_ it had been ten years, and she knew that they’d been so _stupid_ -

“You were promised graves?”

At Tawney’s soft question, Inigo gave a nod, a weak, albeit genuine, smile on his face at the memory. “Indeed. Anankos told us that if we needed a price He would do anything we asked of Him so long as it was in His power. We… asked only for proper burials and graves for our, our original parents in the ruined world. It’s what… they deserved.”

A deep sigh was Inigo’s only reply at first, not from the Plegian ruler, but coming instead from the tall blond with his eyebrows knit tightly and an _extremely_ familiar look of fond exasperation upon his face.

“A god offered you anything you could have possibly desired and you chose to honor the sacrifices of your parents and yet you _still_ say it was a selfish act? To each their own, but I must disagree.”

Smoothing back his curls for a moment, Xander raised his head to stare directly at his once-retainer. “You three are without a doubt some of the most incredulous people we’ve ever met in our lives. The tales of adoration I’ve heard from Camilla, the exhausted complaints from Leo, all together with my own opinions… Selfless, selfish, those words are easily thrown around in a war – they begin to lose their proper meaning, especially in respect to other situations. Call it what you will, but I can state with no regrets in my mind that you three are some of the bravest, passionate utter _fools_ we’ve ever had the absolute gift of knowing.”

“You couldn’t be more right,” Tawney softly agreed, the small smile on her face standing out amongst the tears shed as she wrapped her arms around both of the mercenaries’ shoulders, pulling them close in a hug. “Heroic fools, but fools nonetheless. Almost daft enough to consider things like volcanos as appropriate grounds for battle.”

That comment elicited a bark of laughter from Severa, one arm reaching to return the hug in kind. Inigo said nothing, but his eyes shone with hints of mirth, and the inside joke seemed to clear the air in the room as much as it may have bewildered the minds of those not privy to its reference.

Even the humility and shame of the past that had clung to Tawney’s robes like a needy infant had begun lifting for the first time in over a decade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm prayin the wait for the next chapter won't be so long! your comments especially inspire me to get my ass in gear, and i'm so thankful to all of you for your continuous support!
> 
> edit: i know it's been like like a little over 12 hours since i posted but i wanted to let y'all know... be sure to tune in next friday for the next chapter ;) the wait won't be long at all this time <3


	19. Insurance is Hereditary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grAOfOjONfY  
> what'd i tell ya  
> what's UP my fam,,, ily guys so much. i hope you enjoy this chapter, it was gonna be with the other one a while back but sometimes you just!!! get crazy!!!
> 
> warnings: blood, neglect mentions

There was no sound as a guard came to relieve the current one on watch, one man leaving just so the other could take up this burden. It was dark and damp in the dungeons, upkeep not something the Mad Witch’s forces seemed to bother themselves with in such a situation. Still, the one torch available was enough to illuminate the three figures huddled together in the back of the cell.

Sitting against the back wall, as motionless as stone, was Lucina. Her dark blue hair was matted down with blood, her eyes dark and empty of their usual light. One hand curled over the head lying in her lap, fingers gently tied into the matching locks in some small form of comfort for her brother. Neither made notice of the guard change.

Owain, however…

With a low snarl, the brunet kicked at the small tins of food nearby, sending them crashing into the cell bars. Even this gained no attention from the siblings, instead leaving Owain to bristle next to them in defiance alone.

Lucina _did_ look up when the guard turned toward them, leaving his post to stand in front of the prison, arms crossed as the hall was blocked out by his body. With a huff, he grabbed at the scabbard on his waist, quickly pulling it off.

Such a violent omen of punishment ordinarily would have caused all three pause, holding their breaths to see if Owain’s recklessness and attitude would spawn consequences in the form of verbal assault or physical. Instead, Owain especially was tense with anxiety as the guard sat down across from them with a disgraceful _thud_ , separated only by steel poles.

“Criminy, you kids okay in there? I heard about the whole show out front, have your burns been treated?”

A slow breath of relief. _Gaius_.

“Aunt Lissa reversed the damage she could in the time allowed,” Lucina found herself smiling at the sight of a friend, “of course, she had to spend most of it preventing Owain from dying, but even so she managed to at least… ease the pain of the burns seared onto both of them.”

“M’ hand still hurts to move,” Morgan muttered, sitting up with bleary eyes to lean against his sister, “it’s going to scar, but it shouldn’t get infected or anything…”

Gaius exhaled with a soft whistle, turning the scabbard on its head to allow small baggies to fall to the stone floor below. “If she got her point across, she probably won’t do it again. Were you three payin’ any attention to what happened after? Did you see some absolute madman try to shoot that lady down? Er, turns out he wasn’t necessarily _aiming_ to off the witch, but it would’ve been quite a shot if he did.”

“No, I’m afraid we missed that,” Lucina replied, one eyebrow arching in curiosity. Owain, too, looked interested, adding “If he _wasn’t_ necessarily trying to kill her, then what was he doing?”

The thief gave a half shrug, pulling a lollipop out of one of his gloves and uncovering it, sticking it into his mouth as he recounted the event. “Oh, y’know, declaring allegiance to Ylisse on the behalf of Rosanne. Hadn’t realized that his Lordship had already begun training him in archery, but I figure that it makes enough sense.”

Lucina nearly choked, rocketing up to her feet unsteadily as she dashed forward to clutch the bars. “You mean – Inigo? He’s back? Gods, he’s _back_! Gaius, is Severa back too? Are they okay – are they _safe_ with Mother and the others?”

“Right on the mark,” Gaius smirked, winking, “brought us some fresh recruits, too. Didn’t get much info outta Whiskers when I met up with her, apparently Bubbles was still working on figuring everything out. Knowing her, though, I’ll probably be able to fill you in on the rest by the end of the day tomorrow. Real characters, that’s for sure.”

Mouth dry as a desert, Owain could not help but stare at Gaius, thoughts racing far too quickly for him to take note of. “Inigo and Severa… followed me back?” A slow pause as the myrmidon blinked, the notion sinking in, “Gods – of course! How foolish of me to consider for even the sweetest moment otherwise? To even think that Severa, she whose fickle tongue cuts even sharper than her ruinous blade, could possibly sit still for a moment – and Inigo of Indigo Skies, his hope and optimism is unmatched, only such powerful people, so close to mythical they can almost reach my height, could possibly find a way to make such a divine act of rebellion happen! The rules of the worlds bend in their favor and quake in their steady gazes!

“Er…” he coughed into his hand, huffing slightly at the sting it brought, “you said… fresh recruits? Do you, uh… know what they look like?”

Clicking his tongue, Gaius nodded. “Sure thing. There’s Goldilocks – as the name suggests, he’s got fine lookin’ hair. He’s real tall and broad, Whiskers said that he seems to be in charge of the group. Then there’s, uh, Mistress. Glimpsed her for a long moment yesterday, a real woman if you ask me, Whiskers said she brought a new wyvern mount to our ranks and has spent a lot of time fretting over the kids when she can. She’s always with Flower, this little thing ‘bout Kid’s size, who apparently’s been real good at following around and emulating that boy, Brady. The other two are Dork and Twin, they’re nigh inseparable, I think. Dork’s all chummy with Bubbles according to what Whiskers’ seen, head always in a new tome when no one’s bothering him with questions. I see a lot of myself in Twin… _supposedly_ he’s an unsavory type like me, enough so that Bubbles felt the need to make Sunshine give him all her attention. Geez, even thinking about that level of stalking makes me uneasy.”

Paler than ever, Owain rubbed his palm into his temple, putting the pieces slowly together. They had… _followed_? Gaius’ nicknames weren’t helping his confusion, but it seemed clear enough who the newcomers were. Now the question was _how did they get here_ , but it certainly seemed like Gaius wouldn’t be able to say even if he wanted to – he likely didn’t know any better than the rest of them.

“Oi, something wrong with what I said?”

Ah. He had started crying.

Swiping at his tears, ignoring the feeling of a wide smile stretched across his face, Owain shook his head, a laugh escaping. “…No. Just to think, those heroes in their own right would chase after a wretch like me…” _Even Leo and Niles._

“Figures you’d know them. Severa and Lord Inigo were quite adamant that they’d be allies instead of foes, not that we’re really in any position to discard help. Speaking of help, you kids alright? Judging by this sad excuse for a meal, I’ll be guessing no.”

To add, Gaius prodded the tin of food that had been thrown, observing the contents with clear distaste. Even if he hadn’t seen what they were getting, he could tell it wasn’t enough: Lucina and Morgan were thinner than they had been at the start of this, their energy at an all time low. Owain, too, seemed to be catching up in this neglected whirlwind, more tired than he had been at the start and putting more energy into attempting his fanatical speech than usual.

The odd thing was… as dreadful the food may be, they should’ve been eating it. As it appeared, most of the food was untouched. Frowning, Gaius simply took the bags he had stowed in his scabbard and pushed them through, watching as the royal children lit up at the sight of pieces of fruit, biscuits, and jerky. As Lucina and Morgan ate, Owain stood, sitting against the bars with a chunk of bread in his hand.

“So… I s’pose you’re gonna tell me why the three of you are only eating maybe one and a third of the rations you’re being given?”

Giving an airy chuckle, Owain dipped his head. Right to the point. “Yeah. Whenever we’re given dinner plates, two of the three are laced in a poison as foul as the Fell Dragon’s stinking breath. They always make a big show of setting them down one at a time, address us as _highness_ as they do to present us our food. Hah. They just want to make sure we eat the right plates.

“I tasted one once they started doing it, a couple days ago,” Owain sighed, eyeing the tins with scorn, “sure enough, the ones they were giving to me were the only ones untainted. Er… while I was gone, I had the opportunity to earn the feat so few are given the chance to and learned how to identify poisons through taste alone and strengthen me with enough immunity that I cannot be so easily slain! So I… told them to share my portion of the food. I consume some of what they are given, but even a chosen one such as myself shouldn’t take in more toxins than I need to, blossoming immunity or no.”

Gaius rolled his eyes, placing a little wrapped-up cookie next to Owain’s hip. “That’s messed up, man. They haven’t been doing that to the food they give the girls over in the stables, my Cupcake knows the ins and outs just like you said you do… but what a rotten thing, poisoning kids like you.”

Silence, and then a slow nod in agreement. Gaius wasn’t sure if Owain would reply, the younger biting into the offered cookie with a look of exhausted contemplation on his face. Just as Gaius assumed he should return to at least pretending to be at a guard post, he saw Owain turn his thin face to him, eyes steely with something new.

“I’ve got a message for my aunt. Insurance… she’ll know what I mean. Make sure she gets it as swiftly as possible.”

“Oh yeah? That all?” the thief tilted his head, standing with a small stretch. Perhaps Owain was tired, tired enough that he couldn’t put an extreme amount of flair into his words, but he clearly wasn’t so out of it that he couldn’t think straight. No, his gaze was dark, voice certain and hard in a way that Gaius… didn’t really like hearing, but understood, on him.

“You need to let Aunt Tawney know… being bait seems to run in the family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've got quite a bit of the next chapter written so i'm praying i'll finish by next friday! if not then,,, you'll see me soon enough, i'm sure, my dears. please leave comments if you can!!! they're wonderful motivators <3


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